CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(l\/lonographs) 


ICI\AH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographles) 


Canadian  Inttituta  for  Historical  Microraproductioni  /  Inttitut  Canadian  da  microraproductiona  Matoriquaa 


1995 


TMhnial  and  Bibliographic  Nota.  /  Nota.  tachniouas  at  biblioraphiqun 


Tha  intiiiuta  hai  anamptad  to  obtain  tha  bait  original 
copy  anilabia  (or  filming.  Faaturas  of  tfiii  copy  which 
may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua,  which  may  altar  any 
of  tha  imagai  in  tha  raproduction.  or  which  may 
lignificantly  changa  tha  uiual  mathod  of  filming,  ara 
chacfcad  balow. 


SColourad  covars/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I       I  Covart  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 

Covart  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastauria  at/ou  palliculia 

wr  titia  mining/ 

titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

burad  maps/ 
Cartas  giographiquat  an  coulaur 


□  Covar  titIa  mining/ 
La 


I       I  Colourad  maps/ 


0 


^  I  Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Enera  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autre  que  blaua  ou  noira) 


0  Colourad  platat  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planchas  at/ou  illustrations  en  coulaur 


D 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Ralie  avec  d'autras  documents 


□  Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  raliure  serrie  peut  causer  da  I'ombra  ou  da  la 
distorsion  la  long  da  la  marge  interieura 


D 


D 


Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may  appear 
within  tha  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  qua  certaines  pages  blanches  ejouties 
tors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  la  taxte. 
mail,  lorsque  cela  itait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  ati  filmees. 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commcntairas  lupplementairas: 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  retio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  eu  tau«  de  rMuction  indiqua  cinJessous. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  la  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il 
lui  a  M  possible  de  »  procurer.  Les  ditails  de  cet 
axamplaire  qui  sont  peut-ftre  uniques  du  point  de  vua 
biblioraphkiue.  qui  pauvent  modifier  una  image 
reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  una  modification 
dans  la  mithode  normale  de  f  ihnage  sont  indiquis 
ci-dessous. 

□  Coloured  pages/ 
("ages  de  couleur 

□  Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagias 

□  Pegas  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restauries  et/ou  pellicul«es 

QPeges  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pagn  dicolorias.  tachetias  ou  piquees 

□  Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditachies 

QShowthrough/ 
Transparence 

□  Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualita  inigala  de  I'impreision 

□  Continuous  pagination/ 
Pagination  continue 

□  Includes  indexlesi/ 
Comprand  un  (det)  index 

Title  on  header  taken  from:/ 
Le  titre  de  I'enttta  provient: 


I        I  Title  page  of  issue/ 


I       I  Caption  of  issue/ 


Page  de  titre  de  la  livraison 

Caption  of  issue/ 

Titre  de  depart  da  la  livraison 


D 


Masthead/ 

Generique  (pariodiquesi  de  la  livraison 


D 


Z2X 


1«X 


32  X 


Tht  copy  filmad  hara  hn  been  reproducad  thanks 
to  tha  ganaroalty  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'sxamplaire  film*  fut  raprodult  grica  i  la 
gtniroalt*  da: 

aibllotMqua  natlonala  du  Canada 


Tha  Imaga*  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
poailbia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagiblllty 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacificatlon*. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papsr  covara  ara  filmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
the  last  paga  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  covar  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmad  beginning  on  the 
first  paga  with  a  prin;ad  or  Illustrated  Impres 
sion,  and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  print.  I 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  —^-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  chartt,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
lequirad.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Lea  images  suivantes  ont  ttt  reproduites  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compts  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
da  la  nettet*  de  I'exemplaira  fiim«,  et  en 
conformity  avac  lea  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmage. 

Lea  examplairas  orlginaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
pepler  est  imprimte  sont  fiimto  en  commenfant 
par  la  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernitre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impreaaion  ou  d'llluatratlan,  soit  par  Is  aacond 
plat,  aalon  la  eas.  Toua  lea  autras  exemplalras 
orlginaux  sont  filmis  an  common$ant  par  la 
pramiire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
li'lmprassion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  terminant  par 
la  darnitre  paga  qui  comporte  una  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  dea  symbolsa  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derniire  Image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  Is  aymboia  -*-signlfie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN' 

Les  cartas,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  ttre 
fiimto  t  des  taux  de  riduction  diffirenta. 
Lorsque  le  document  eet  trop  grand  pour  ttra 
reprodult  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film*  t  partir 
de  I'angle  supirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  i  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  an  pranant  la  nombre 
d'Images  ntoessaira.  Les  diagrammas  suivanu 
illuatrant  la  mithoda. 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MldOCOPY   RESOIUTION   TEST   CHAKT 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0     Ifl^  !IK 

14' 


^  rjPPLIED  IM^GE    In 

S^"^  '6S3  East   Moin   Street 

—J=  f'oc'lester.    ^e-.    York         U609       USA 

■■:=  ("6)   *e2-03oo^Phor>B 

^=  (716)   388-  5989  -  Fo< 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

IDOLS 

'APFBAY 

VIVIETTB 

SEPTIMUS 

DERELICTS 

THB    U8UIIPBII 

STELLA    MARIS 

WHERE     LOVE     IS 

THE     RED     PLANET 

THE     WHITE     DOVE 

SIMON     THE     JESTER 

*     STUDY     IN     SHADOWS 

A     CHRISTMAS      MYSTERY 

THE      WONDERFUL      YEAR 

THE      FORTUNATE       YOUTH 

THE       EBLOViD      VAGABOND 

*T      THE      GATE      OP      SAMARIA 

THE    GLORY     OP     CLEMENTINA 

THE    MORALS     OP     MARCUS    ORDEYNE 

"f    ''■=»*00°"E    AND     LADY    PHAYRE 

™«    ~T0U8    ADVENTURES    OP    AHimi,E    PU,OL 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


BY 

WILLIAM  J.  LOCKE 

AlTBCMt  <W   "the  red   planet,"    *'tHB    WONDEHPIIL    YEAR,* 
"JAFTERY,"    "tub  BBLOV&D    VAGABOND,"    ETC. 


NEW  YORK:  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 
LONDON:  JOHN  LANE,  THE  BODLEY  HEAD 
TORONTO:  S.  B.  GUNDY    •.  MCMX'/  III 


015 


COPYKIGHT  1917,   igiS, 
BY    INTERNATIONAL    MAGAZINE    COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT,    1918 
BY   JOHN    LANE    COMPANY 


IHI- PLlMriOH -ri . _t 
■  OlWOOO-MASI-l  -•* 


ll 


The  Rough  Road 

CHAPTER  I 

T"^^f\v  ^^  story  of  Doggie  Trevor.  It  tells 
of  his  doings  and  of  a  girl  in  England  and  a 
fj.»  •  t^  *°  ^/^^®-  Cl^efly  it  is  coiTcemedSdth 
WL  Do^^.  t'*  '"^f  him  to  win  tCT^Te 
Hp  ;„f  ^^^  Trevor  did  not  get  the  Victoria  Cross 
He  got  no  cross  of  distinction  whatever.  He  ^d 
not  even  attam  the  sorrowful  glory  of  a  Iittl"wWte 
cr(«s  above  his  grave  in  the  W^tem  Front.  DogSe 
was  no  hero  of  romance,  ancient  or  modem   Xt 

of  "  nJ^^l^  °*  has  acquamtance  gave  him  the  name 
ot    Doggie    years  before  the  War  was  ever  thouirht 

^e  a""^  ^P  ^^  ^  ''?'^^*  "P  from  b^h^ 
like  a  toy  Pom.  The  ahnost  freak  o£FsprinK  of 
elderly  parents    he  had  the  rough  world  agL^t 

SaWh^^^H--  His  father  diel  befoi^B  hfZd 
cut  a  tooth.    His  mother  was  old  enough  to  be  his 

stin  t  and  the  bram,  such  as  it  is,  of  an  earwig 
She  wrappd  Doggie -his  real  naine  Ws  S 
Mannadufe-in  cotton-wool  and  keoT  him  S 
until  he  was  ahnost  a  grown  man.  Doirrie  had 
never  a  chance.    She  '  nought  him  up  l^f  a  tov 

IZJ^'i  ^'  ^^  *7«"^  -«°«  -  ^d  Xn  she  di3^ 
Doggie  being  comfortably  oflf,  continued  thel^: 
temal  tradition  and  kept  on  bringing  hirnselfun 
hkeatcyPom.  He  di/not  knowThlt  db^to  da 
seu  at  the  edge  of  the  world  gazing  in  timorous 

7 


«  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

is  a^cil'oSl'^JtS  of  ite  greatest  men 

far  more  justice  it  Z^^  steL^?^™^:  W'^h 
men  the  world  km^aLihi^^  a  ^°*  °f  '*»  '^ast 
the  Doirm^  nf  t^T  w    °°™ne  and  cares  less.    Yet 

body  else's  stuStion^d^r^ZeTJ^"^ .'^'^^ 
atthetimeSnatotedte"*  ^^Pf?°^  ^^ 

a.aerl»— 2-to^ 

««ential  to  ob?^a  ^L^'virTIhV  ""^^ 
which  Trevor  belonged  ™  *^®  *yP«  *<> 

ff^^sLtrai^^^£^i?t 

meadows  sloping  riverwerd  Hpr^k  ^  "*®  W 
centuries,  wCf  thl^^  .J  J  **•*  P^^"®?®  o^  the 
the  cath^al  toS  oPoSk  ""  "5%'  ^^  « 
chnnneys  defile^^  Ifr  TS^  i  ^^•*'*^^ 

streets.    Divine  PtovXnTL  j-       ^<*  sedate 

venry  years  ago,  according  to  progressive 


■» 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  9 

minds    turned  the  main  line  of  railway  twentv 
miles  from  the  sacred  spot.    So  thTto  W^ 

t^Br^A"^'  \'^  ^f^  »'  «  business  to  fi^^^ 
trom  Bradshaw,  how  to  get  to  Durdlehnrv^nnli 
havmg  found   t    get  the,^.    ^  for^?£^a^' 

g.«>^std^^  si^ziiB 

^A  T^''  ^  wearisome  diocesan  rZidTf  S 

^^  ^^i,  v.^"5  °^^  *>«  *>««  l»i«  episcopal  m™ 
car,  which  has  deprived  him  of  his  grievai^ 

sentindfed^'r  /^"''"^I'r'.^'^^S;  silent, 
sentinelled  by  unmemonaJ  ehns  that  jruard  ^e 
dignified  Gotkic  dwellings  of  the  catheTaddiJS! 
ten^  was  Jam^  Mannaduke  Trevor  b^m.^k 
father  a  man  of  private  fortune,  was  Cmon  0I 
Durdlebury.  For  many  years  he  hved  in  th2  mo^t 
cpmmo^ous,  canonical  Luse  in  the  cC^'tThL 

r^wSVl^^^-  I-thec!^!^r^tiS 
a  new  Uean,  Dr.  Conover,  was  appointed  to  Dur- 
dlebury, and  restless  innovator  that  he^  und^- 
pmied,the  North  Tranent  and  split  up' Son 

bhZnl^T^^f"^  .  Sophia^  Th^  S^X 
bitten  by  the  madness,  ,  jmmitted  abrupt  matri- 
mony with  the  Rev.  Vernon  Mmmingtr^,  Kr 

tZ^  r**'^'  '^"'^^  ^°'  ««"e  months  in  b^ 
wddered  lonehness,  unta  one  day  he  found  h^ 
self  standing  m  front  of  the  Cathedral  altai-  ^ 
Miss  Mathilda  Jessup,  while  the  Bishop  proMu^ 
over  them  words  diabolicaUy  stran^^yrteS 
^^ca%  familiar.    Miss  Jesslp,^  ^ISS 

m^H^^^H  T''  T^  *  "«*"«  «°d  comfortable 
maiden  lady  of  ample  means,  the  only  and  orphan 
daughter  of  a  late  Bishop  of  Durdlebury    Yw& 


10 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


had  there  been  such  a  marrying  and  grviag  in 
mamage  m  the  Cathedral  circlef   Chiltfien  were 
born  m  Decanal,  Rectorial,  and  Canonical  homes. 
tmt  a  son  to  the  Manningtrees,  whom  they  named 
Oliver.    Then  a  daugl  er  to  the  Conovers.    Then 
a  son,  named  James  Marmaduke,  after  the  late 
Bishop  Jessup,  was  bom  to  the  Trevors.    The 
profane  say  that  Canon  Trevor,  a  profomid  patri- 
stic thrologian  and  an  enthusiastic  palaeontolbgist, 
oouldn  t  maie  head  or  tail  of  it  aU,^d,  unabll  t<; 
decide  whether  James  Marmaduke  should  be  attri- 
buted to  the  Tertullian  or  the  Neolithic  period, 
ra^ired  m  an  agony  of  dubiety.    At  any  rate  the 
pobr  man  died,    lie  widow,  of  necessity,  moved 
from  the  Close,  m  order  to  make  way  for  the  new 
Canon  and  betook  herself  with  her  babe  to  Denby 
tiau,  the  comfortable  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
town  in  which  she  had  dwelt  before  her  marriage. 

TTie  saturated  essence  of  Durdelbury  ran  m  Mar- 
maduke s  blood:  an  honourable  essrace,  a  proud 
essence;  an  essence  of  all  that  is  statically  leau- 
tuful  and  digmfied  m  English  life;  but  an  ^essence 
which,  without  admixture  of  wilder  and  more  fluid 
elements,  is  apt  to  run  thick  and  clog  the  arteries. 
Marmaduke  was  coddled  from  his*  birtL  The 
%.^'iwr*'°-l*"^^'  energetic  man,  protested. 
Sar^  Mannmgtree  protested.  But  when  lie  Dean's 
eldwt-born  died  of  diphtheria,  Mrs.  Trevor,  in  her 

for^-^?n  f"™  ^^  ^^^^  ^  "  judgement  on  Sophia 
for  crmunal  carelessness;  and  when  young  OEver 
Mamimgtree  gre-^  up  to  be  an  intoleraSf  yoZ 
Turk  and  savage,  she  looked  on  Mannadukef  and! 
^f^u-^""""  ^^\  ^^  ^^  °°t  as  other  boys  were 
wing     men  Ohver  went  to  school  in  the  town 

nft^Z  ^  u''^^^?^  '"^^  ^  ""d  and  pmich^ 
other  boys  heads,  Marmaduke  remained  at  home 
under  the  educational  charge  of  a  governess.    Oliver, 


i 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  n 

lean  and  lanky  and  swift-eyed,  swaggered  through 
the  sUeets  unattended  from  the  first  day  they  sent 
him  to  a  neighbouring  kindergarten.  As  the  months 
and  yeare  of  his  childish  life  passed,  he  grew  more  and 
more  mdependent  and  vagabond.  He  swore  blood 
brotherhood  with  a  butcher-boy  and,  unknown  to 
his  pious  parents,  became  the  leader  of  a  ferocious 
gang  of  pu'ates.  Marmaduke,  on  the  other  hand 
was  never  allowed  to  cross  the  road  without  femi- 
mne  escort.  Oliver  had  the  profoundest  contempt 
for  Mannaduke.  Being  two  years  older,  he  Ucked 
him  whenever  he  had  a  chance.  Marmaduke 
loathed  hun.  Marmaduke  shrank  into  Miss  Gunter 
the  governess's  skirts  whenever  he  saw  him.  Mrs 
Trevor  therefore  regarded  Oliver  as  the  youthful 
mcarnation  of  Beelzebub,  and  quarreUed  bitterly 
with  her  sister-in-law. 

One  day  Oliver,  with  three  or  four  of  his  piratical 
triends,  met  Mannaduke  and  Miss  Gunter  and  a 
httle  toy  temer  in  the  High  Street.  The  toy 
temer  was  attached  by  a  lead  to  Miss  Gunter  on 
the  one  side,  Mannaduke  by  a  hand  on  the  other. 
Oliver  straddled  rudely  across  the  path. 

"Hallo!  Look  at  the  two  httle  doggies  I"  he 
cned.  He  snapped  his  fingers  at  the  te-rier.  "Come 
along,  Tmyl"  The  terrier  yapped.  Oliver  grinned 
and  turned  to  Marmaduke.  '^Come  alonjt!  Fido 
dear  little  doggie." 

"You're  a  nasty,  rude,  horrid  boy,  and  I  shall  tell 
your  mother,     declared  Miss  Gunter,  indignantly. 

But  Oliver  and  his  pirates  laughed  with  the  tru- 
culence  befittmg  their  vocation,  and  bowing  with 
u-omcal  politeness,  let  their  victim  depart  to  the 
parody  of  a  popular  song:  "Good-bye,  Doggie, 
we  shall  miss  you." 

Frrai  that  day  onwards  Marmaduke  was  known 
as  Doggie"  throughout  all  Durdlebury,  save  to 
nis  mother  and  Miss  Gunter.    The  Dean  himself 


12 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Brew  to  think  of  him  as  "Doggie."  People  to 
this  day  caU  hnn  Doggie  without  any  notion  of  the 
origm  of  the  name. 

_  To  preserve  him  from  persecution  Mrs.  Trevor 
jealously  guarded  him  from  association  with  other 
boys.  He  neither  learned  nor  played  any  boyish 
games.  In  defiance  of  the  doctor,  whom  she  re- 
garded as  a  member  of  the  brutal  anU-Marmaduke 
League,  Mrs.  Trevor  proclaimed  Marmaduke's  deli- 
cacy of  constitution.';  He  must  not  go  out  into  the 
ram  l^t  he  should  get  damp,  nor  into  the  hot  sun- 
shme  lest  he  should  perspu-e.  She  kept  him  'ike 
a  precious  plant  in  a  carefully  warmed  conservatory 
Doggie,  used  to  it  firran  bhth,  looked  on  it  as  Ms 
natural  envu'onment.  Under  feminine  guidance 
and  tuiUon  he  embroidered  and  painted  screens 
and  played  the  piano  and  the  mandolin,  and  read 
Miss  Charlotte  Yonge  and  learned  history  from  the 
late  Mrs.  Markman.  Without  doubt  his  life  was 
a  happy  one.  AU  that  he  asked  for  was  seques- 
tration from  Oliver  and  his  associates. 

Now  and  then  the  cousins  were  forced  to  meet  — 
at  occasional  children's  parties,  for  instance.  A 
httle  daughter,  Peggy,  had  been  bom  in  the  Deanery, 
replacing  the  lost  first-bom,  and  festivals,  to  whidi 
came  the  extreme  youth  of  Durdlebury,  were  given 
m  her  honour.  She  liked  Marmaduke,  who  was 
live  yeara  her  senior,  because  he  was  gentle  and 
clean  and  wore  such  beautiful  clothes  and  brushed 
his  hau-  somcely;  whereas  she  detested  OUver,  who 
even  at  an  afternoon  party,  looked  as  if  he  had  just 
oome  out  of  a  rabbit-hole.  Besides,  Marmaduke 
danced  beautifully;  OUver  couldn't  and  wouldn't 
disdammg  such  effeminate  sports.  His  great  joy 
was  to  put  out  a  sly  leg  and  send  Doggie  and  his 
partner  sprawling.  Once  the  Dean  caught  him  at 
It  and  caUed  him  a  horrid  little  beast,  and  threatened 
him  with  neck  and  crop  expulsion  if  he  ever  did 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


13 


it  again.    Doggie,  who  had  picked  himself  up  and 
listened  to  the  rebuke,  said: 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  hear  you  talk  to  him  like  that, 
Unde.  I  thmk  his  behaviour  is  perfectly  dete»- 
table." 

The  Dean's  lips  twitched  and  he  turned  away 
abruptly.    Oliver  glared  at  Doggie. 

"Oh,  my  holy  Auntl"  he  whispered  hoarsely. 
"Just  you  wait  till  I  get  you  alone  I" 

OUver  ^ot  him  alone,  an  hour  later,  in  a  passage, 
having  lam  in  ambush  for  him,  and,  after  a  few  busy 
moments,  contemplated  a  bruised  and  bleeding 
Doggie  blubbering  in  a  comer. 

'  Do  you  think  my  behaviour  is  detestable  now?" 

"Yes,"  whimpered  Doggie. 

"I've  a  good  mind  to  go  on  licking  you  until  you 
say  'no,'"  said  Oliver. 

'You're  a  great  big  bully,"  said  Doggie. 

OUver  reflected.  He  did  not  like  to  be  called  a 
bully.  "Look  here,"  said  he.  "I'll  stick  my  right 
arm  down  inside  the  back  of  my  trousers  fmd  fight 
you  with  my  left." 

"  I  don't  want  to  fight,  I  can't  fight,"  cried  Doggie. 

Oliver  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

"Will  you  come  and  play  Kiss-in-the-Ring,  then?" 
he  asked  sarcastically. 

"No,"  replied  Doggie. 

"Well,  don't  say  I  haven't  made  you  generous 
offers,"  sftid  Oliver,  and  stalked  away. 

It  was  all  very  well  for  the  Rev.  Vernon  Manning- 
tree,  when  discussing  this  incident  with  the  Dean, 
to  dismiss  Doggie  with  a  contemptuous  shrug  and 
call  him  a  Uttle  worm  without  any  spirit.  The 
unfortimate  Doggie  remained  a  human  soul  with 
a  human  destiny  before  him.  As  to  his  lack  of 
spirit. 

"Where,"  said  the  Dean,  a  man  of  wider  sym- 
pathies, "do  you  suppose  he  could  get  any  from? 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


14 

R«^r!'*  *^'°°*^  *^  "*  ''•*  ""^^  '^•"  «^<1  ^« 

'Tm  afraid  he's  a  young  devil,"  said  the  Rector 
SidZof"am^'^™"^   pnde.    "But   he   hTte 
^^as  Mannaduke,"  replied  the  Dean. 
Bosh  I    said  Mr.  Mannuigtree. 

When  Oliver  went  to  Rugby  happier  davs  than 
ejrer  dawned  for  Marmadle^  1^?,^  S  o2 
the  hohdays  to  fear.  But  as  time  went  on  X 
W^^K^^^TP^^J.^'^^*'-  the  public  8cho^"bS! 

JtlaiV^^^  ?  existence;  so  that  even  the  holi- 
days lost  their  gloomy  menace  and  became  like 
the  noraial  halcyontide.  Meanwhile  Doggie  mew 
{V-  When  he  reached  the  age  of  fourteenTe  D^^ 
by  strenuous  endeavour,  rescued  him  from  Se 
unavMbng   tmUon   of  Miss   Gunter.    But  ™  hS 

It  was  biiital  of  Edward  -  the  Dean  -  to  sukkmI 

^te'S^l  M«J™^<l,f^«.-«>  sensitive  andC 
cate- school  would  kiU  him.  It  would  undo  aU 
the  results  of  her  unceasing  care.  It  would  make 
hjm  coarse  and  vulgar  like  other  horrid  b^s.  ^e 

™?£  ^"'f  "T.  ^  ^^^  *t  *»«'  feet  than  at  a 
pid)hc  school.    It  was  true  that  he  ought  to  have 

FHw^f ''*'°-°f  "  gentleman.  She  dfd  not  ne^ 
aSete"*  °"'  '"  '"^^-    ^^«  -"^^  «°«««« 

"^  "/ht.    ru  g:et  you  one,"  said  the  Dean. 

pe  Master  of  h«  old  coUege  at  Cambridge  sent 
hm  an  exceUent  youth  who  had  just  taken  Ws 
degree -a  second  class  in  the  Classical  Tripos- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  15 

an  aU-round  athlete  and  a  genUeman.  The  first 
thing  he  did  was  to  take  Marmaduke  on  the  Uav 
river  that  flowed  through  the  Durdlebury  meado^ 
thereby  endan«erm,r  h&  life,  wofully  bfisteriM  h^ 
hands,  and  n^RiingTmn  ache  all  over  his  poorlitUe 
body     After  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  inUrView  with 

A  ^r.ill^-  '°^  ^«^™"ned  to  select  a  tutor  herself. 

She  wpi^'^'n  t'**^'^  "*",*  >"  "  ^°"^  candidates. 
»ne  went  o  London  and  uilerviewed  them  all  A 
woman,  even  of  the  most  limited  inteUigence   in- 

geto  it.  i^.n.  Trevor  got  Phineas  McPhail,  M.A. 
Glasgow,  B.A.  Oxford  (TLird  Class  MathemaU^ 
Greats),  read.'..^  for  Holy  Oi-iers.        ™«">«"«''«»1 

nf  wf  ^T'^^J'^J  t*>e  ministry  in  the  Free  Kirk 

«L~  r.1;  ^^  ^^^  "^^"^  *  8^«d»«»y  became 
aware  of  the  error  of  my  way.v  .ontil  I  saw  ihat 

there  could  only  be  salvation  L  the  epiio^  f^,^* 

of  Church   govemment.     As   the  deught^  of  a 

bjshop.  Mrs.  Trevor,  you  will  appreciate  myfon- 

sc^ntious  posiuon.    An  open  scLolaiship  and  the 

6e>  my  Oxford  degree.  Vou  would  have  no  objec- 
whn»i°  my  continuing  my  theological  studies 
wMe  1  undertake  the  education  of  your  son?" 

Phmeas  McPhail  pleased  Mrs.  Trevor.  He  had 
what  she  called  a  rugged,  honest  Scotch  face,  with 
a  very  big  nose  ;n  the  middle  of  it.  and  little  <frev 

«e  spoke  with  the  mere  captivating  suMeslion  of 

extmct  gentlefoUt,  he  presented  personal  testimonials 
of  an  unexceptionable  (juality. 

fl«  «  H.ft  ^''^^^  '-^^  ^  ^''eP^  ^'i  Durdlebury 
as  a  duck  to  water.    He  read  for  Holy  Orders  for 

seven  years.     When  the  question  of  h^  StiS 


Itf 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


aroM,  he  would  declare  impressively  that  his  sacred 
duty  was  the  makingof  Mcrmadute  bto  a  sS 
••o**,  •  ^Chnstian.  'hiat  duty  accomSirfJdhf 
would  begin  to  think  of  himself  JllnrT~ 
acoountSlhhn  the  most  devSTL  ^SiJS 
Uwt  woman  ever  had.    He  saw  eye  to^e  w^S 

te  "  '^r^.^'^^lP  of  MarmadukVs^tJhJS 

.^fX^^  taught  the  boy.  who  was  nauS 

^""Jv"  9;*'"*  *'<«'•  «n<l  repaired  the  tSe 

fh^ln^T  ??}?/'"  'iyste'n^^caUon  mI 
Phail  had  started  hfe  with  many  eager  curiositi^ 
under  the  unpulse  of  which  he  had  a^ss^^r^M* 
erable  knowledge  of  a  suprficial  kind  wWd^  IE 

SsTto'ZS  "i"^  X  V  ^  ""^"^  h;  foS 
easy  to  unpart.    To  the  credit  side  of  Mn.  Trevor's 

to  "^okiT'  ^??^^"'  *^«*  «^«  did  noiobS 
U)  smoking.    The  late  Canon  smoked  incessai.tlv 

to  do  hhnself  to  perfection.    M«.  1 W  Sidd 

Z^  "^t  ""fV"^^  «°d  blandest  ofS  TwS 
had  she  the  shghtest  suspicion  of  evil  com^  Tn 
such  a  pitch  o?  cmining  in  the  observ^^f  tl» 
propnetfes  had  he  arrived,  that  thf  ^^  se^JaSf 
knew  not  of  Ws  doings.  It  was  only  later^X^ 
■^  ^^r""*  death -when  a  surveyor  was  cm!a 

lound  to  be  half  filled  with  thousands  of  whiskv 
bottJ^  secreUy  thrown  in  by  Phineas  McPhaS  ^ 
Ihe  Dean  and  Mr.  Manninjrtree  althn.mj.  ,v 
n«.ant  of  McPhail's  habits~K  cSSr  fc 
&  S  tw"  parasite  on  their  fo^ste^in! 
law.    And    they   were    nght.    But   Mrs.    Trevor 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


17 


turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  slanders.  They  were 
unworthy  to  be  called  Christian  men,  let  alone 
ministers  of  the  Gospel.  Were  it  not  for  the  sacred 
associations  of  her  father  and  her  husband,  she 
would  never  enter  the  Cathedral  again.  Mr.  Mc- 
Phail  was  exactly  the  kind  of  tutor  that  Marma- 
duke  needed.  Mr.  McPhail  did  not  encourage 
hini  to  play  rough  games,  or  take  long  walks,  or 
row  on  Uie  river,  because  he  appreciated  his  consti- 
tutional delicacy.  He  was  the  only  man  in  the 
world  during  her  imhappy  widowhood  who  under- 
stood   Marmaduke.    He   was   a    treasure   beyond 

price.  ,        ,  . 

When  Doggie  was  sixteen,  fate,  fortune,  chance, 
or  whatever  you  like  to  call  it,  did  him  a  good  turn. 
It  made  his  mother  ill  and  sent  him  away  with  her 
to  foreign  health  resorts.  Doggie  and  McPhail 
travelled  luxuriously,  lived  in  luxurious  hotels,  and 
visited  Ja  luxurious  ease  various  picture  galleries 
and  monuments  of  historic  or  aesthetic  mterest. 
The  bov,  utistically  inclined  and  guided  by  the 
;jle  yet  weD-informed  Phineas,  profited  greatly. 
Phineps  sought  profit  to  ihem  both  m  other  ways. 

"Mrs.  Trevor,"  said  he,  "don't  you  think  it  a 
sinful  shame  for  Marmaduke  to  waste  his  time  over 
Latin  and  Mathematics,  and  such  things  as  he  can 
leam  at  home,  instead  of  taking  advantage  of  his 
residence  in  a  foreign  country  to  perfect  himself  in  the 
idiomatic  and  conversational  use  of  the  language?" 

Mrs.  Trevor,  as  usual,  agreed  So  thenceforward, 
whenever  they  were  abroad,  v  lich  was  for  three  or 
four  months  of  each  year,  Phineas  revelled  in  sheer 
idleness,  nicotine,  and  the  skilful  consumption  of 
alcohol,  while  highly  paid  professors  taught  Mar- 
maduke, and  incidentally  himself,  French  and 
Italian. 

Of  the  world,  however,  and  of  the  facts,  grim  or 
seduc  '.3,  of  life.  Doggie  learned  little.    Whether 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


re^ZStrZ  f}^'  ?**  ?*^?t'  ««  soon  as  he  had 
swore  he  woJdd  never  dSA  hi' ^lii^Sof 

^^^r^t^nd^^rrra^is^^^ 

swaUowujg  up  his  onJy  Jrotecto^d  leaviSS 
yoJ^rrsiT^    ''°'"  "^''^^'^  ^•'^  ""^  *«  «t^d  in 

a  man  and  independent.    Let  us  be  IMad^s  3 

Orestes     Let  us  share  and  share  ahke.    Ut  us^e 

Marmaduke  and  Phineas."  ™  '^^ 

Doggie  was   touched  by  such  devotion.     "But 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


19 


your  ambitions  to  take  Holy  Orders  which  you  have 
sacrificed  for  my  sake?" 

"I  think  it  may  be  argued,"  said  Phineas,  "that 
the  really  beautiful  life  is  dehght  in  continued  sacri- 
fice. Besides,  my  dear  boy,  I  am  not  quite  so  sure 
as  I  was  when  I  was  young,  that  by  confining 
oneself  within  the  narrow  Umits  of  a  sacerdotal  pro- 
fession, one  can  retain  all  one's  wider  sympathies 
both  with  human  infirmity  ard  the  gladder  things 
of  existence." 
"You're  a  true  friend,  Phineas,"  said  Doggie. 
"I  am,"  repUed  Phineas. 

It  was  just  after  this  that  Doggie  wrote  hun  a 
cheque  for  a  thousand  pounds  on  account  of  a 
vaguely  indicated  year's  sala' 

If  Phineas  had  maintainf  i  the  wily  caution 
which  he  had  exercised  for  the  past  seven  years, 
all  might  have  been  well.  But  there  came  a  time 
when  unneedfully  he  declared  once  more  that  he 
would  never  desert  Marmaduke,  and  declaring  it 
hiccoughed  so  horribly  and  stared  so  glassily,  that 
Doggie  fem-ed  he  might  be  ill.  He  had  just  lurched 
into  Doggie's  own  peacock-blue  and  ivory  sitting- 
room  when  he  was  mournfully  playing  the  piano. 

"You're  unwell,  Phineas.  Let  me  get  you  some- 
thing." 

"You're  right,  laddie,"  Phineas  agreed,  his  legs 
giving  way  alarmingly  so  that  he  collapsed  on  a 
brocade-covered  couch.  "It's  a  touch  of  the  sim, 
which  I  would  give  you  to  understand,"  he  con- 
tinued with  a  self-preservatory  flash,  for  it  was  an 
overcast  day  in  June,  "is  often  magnified  in  power 
when  it  is  behind  a  cloud.  A  wee  drop  of  whisky 
is  what  I  require  for  a  complete  recovery." 

Doggie  ran  into  the  dining-room  and  returned 
with  a  decanter  of  whisky,  glass  and  siphon  —  an 
adjunct  to  the  sideboard  since  Mrs.  Trevor's  death. 
Phineas  filled  half  the  tumbler  with  spirit,  tossed 


20 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


it  off,  smiled  fantasticaUy,  tried  to  rise,  and  roUed 

pTA^Ul^i^ea^-^^'  '^^  ^«  ^" 
theSttfSlZ^'.-    f-'^«^^whatc«nbe 

eye'^l.f  U^ele'*  ''''  ""'^^^  ^"^'^  -^  ^- 

ge  Je^aliSefd"!.^^  "^  "'  ''''"  ^^  ^^-  "^^e 

H«^lt***-'^^A^>''«i?^?  °'"  *«  end  of  Phineas. 
He  lost  grip  of  hunself.    He  became  the  scarlet 

lite.  The  Dean  came  to  the  .oscue  of  a  grateful 
nephew  A  s^dft  attack  of  delirium  KeS 
crowned  and  ended  Phineas  McPhail's  Durdfeb^ 

"My  boy  "  said  the  Dean  on  the  dav  of  Phineas's 
e|q)uIsion,  "I  don't  want  to  rub  it  i/undiSrbu? 
I  ve  warned  your  poor  mother  for  years,  and  you 

NeitW^^f '  '^^"^'  tiWs  bone-idle,  worthl^s^Mow 
Neither  of  you  wodd  hsten  to  me.  But  you  see 
that  I  was  right.  Perhaps  now  you  may  be  more 
mclmed  to  take  my  advice." 

"Yes  Uncle,"  replied  Doggie,  submissively. 

Ihe  Dean,  a  comfortable,  florid  man  in  the  parlv 
sixties,  took  up  his  parable  and  expounded  itfor 
three-quarters  of  an  hour.     If  ever  youn™  hea^d 
that  which  was  earnestly  meant  for  lis  welf^e 
Doggie  heard  it  from  his  Very  Reverend  S's 

"And  now,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  Dean  by  way 
of  peroration  "you  cannot  but  understand  tLut 
IS  your  bounden  duty  to  apply  yourself  to  some 
serious  purpose  in  life.^'  "  ^"^^ 

it  2/°''i  ^i^'^esif,-     "I've  been  thinking  over 


CHAPTER  II 

TIffiNCEFORWARD  Doggie,  like  the  late 
Mr.  Matthew  Arnold's  Mow  millions,  lived 
alone.  He  did  not  complain.  There  was 
httle  to  complain  about.  He  owned  a  pleasant  old 
house  set  in  fifteen  acres  of  grounds.  He  had  an 
mcome  of  three  thousand  pounds  a  year.  Old 
Peddle,  the  butler,  and  his  wife,  the  housekeeper, 
saved  him  from  domestic  cares.  Rising  late  and 
retiring  early,  Uke  the  good  King  of  Yvetot,  he 
cheated  the  hours  that  might  have  proved  weary. 
His  meals,  his  toilet,  his  music,  his  wall-papers, 
his  drawmg  and  embroidering— specimens  of  the  last 
he  ejchibited  with  great  success  at  various  shows 
held  by  Arts  and  Crafts  Guilds  and  such  hke  high 
and  artistic  fellowships  —  his  sweet  peas,  his  chrys- 
anthemums, his  postage  stamps,  his  dilettante 
readir?  and  his  mild  social  engagements,  filled 
most  satisfyingly  the  hours  not  clauned  by  slumber. 
Now  and  then  appointments  with  his  taUor  sum- 
moned him  to  London.  He  stayed  at  the  same 
mildewed  old  family  hotel  m  the  neighbourhood  of 
Bond  Street  at  which  his  mother  and  his  grand- 
father the  Bishop,  had  stayed  for  uncountable 
years.  There  he  would  lunch  and  dine  stodgily  in 
musty  state.  In  the  evenings  he  would  go  to  the 
plays  discussed  in  the  less  giddy  of  Durdlebury 
ecclesiastical  circles.  The  play  over,  it  never  oc- 
curred to  hhn  to  do  otherwise  than  drive  decorously 
back  to  Sturrock's  Hotel.  Suppers  at  the  Carlton 
or  the  Savoy  were  outside  his  sphere  of  thought  or 
opportunity.  His  only  acquaintance  in  Tvondon 
were  vague  elderly  female  friends  of  his  mother, 

21 


22 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


who  inyited  hun  to  chiUy  semi-suburban  teas   and 

asm  of  their  divers  places  of  otship  T^e  days 
m  London  thus  passed  drearily,  an/ DowFe  wm 
always  glad  to  get  home  again.  ^* 

ci""irs^«^s 'Spirits 

the  Duidiebury  Musical  Association^  hr£7  an 
miportant    position    in    the    town     Dr    ffi- 

Ste^ed'ti'  I^^./'-^anistofthe'ca^Srd, 
scaiterea   broadctus.   gold  i    opinions    of    Docrie 

Jfeh  trd^ratii  cS^.i'^  EnghshT^c 

-    Mr.  Marmuduke  Trevor,  who  play^  the  vtl 

oitt^t?*  *^  ^,  *^^  '"^""e'  bom?'  ^Dogrie  cu! 
out  the  notice,  framed  it,  and  stuck  it  un^n  fw. 
peacock-and-ivory  sitting-^oom  »*  "P  m  his 

mente  hT'S.wT'  ^"^iS**'^'-  «^'^  accompUsh- 
laS-homeTf"Sghte%o?„^'^'*  escort  foung 
bury  would  l^hlvJ-tr^^i^Dogirwith'i^a- 
daughters.    With  women,  old  ani  voml    1^^;^ 

S,S  "h^co  t?  T-^^t-l-tJusI^rwith^com! 
^T^'o   P    ''*"^*^  ''V*^  ^^  exact  shade  of  silk 
e^lSrS""*^?  sofa  cushion,  and  had  ^*  J 
«mng  taste  in  the  selection  of  weddine  nrp«>nt<. 
Young  men  other  than  budding  eccEticdS' 


TIIE  ROUGH  ROAD 


23 


AlUiough  of  no  mean  or  revengeful  nature,  he 
was  hummi  enough  to  feel  a  httle  malicious  satis- 
laction  when  it  was  proved  to  Durdleburv  that 

V/r      A*^*^.^*"'®  ^  *^«  "^e^-    His  Aunt  Sarah, 
Mrs.  Manmngtree,  had  died  midway  in  the  Phineas 
McPhail  penod;    Mr.  Manningtree  a  year  or  so 
later  had  accepted  a  Uving  in  the  North  of  Eneland 
and  died  when  Doggie  was  about  four-and-twenty. 
Meanwhde  Ohver,  who  had  been  withdrawn  youne 
from  Rugby,  where  he  had  been  a  thorn  in  the  side 
ol  the  authorities,   and  had  been  pinned  like  a 
cockchafer  to  a  desk  in  a  family  counting-house 
m  Lothbury    E.  C,  had  broken  loose,  quirrelled 
with  his  father,  gone  off  with  paternal  malediction 
and  a  maternal  heritage  of  a  thousand  pounds  to 
Calitorma,  and  was  lost  to  the  family  ken.    When 
a  man  does  not  write  to  his  family,  what  explana- 
tion can  there  be  save  that  he  is  ashamed  to  do  so? 
Ohver  was  ashamed  of  himself.    He  had  taken  to 
desperate  courses.    He  was  an  outlaw.    He  had 
gone  to  the  devU.    His  name  was  rarely  mentioned 
m    Durdlebury  — to    Marmaduke    Trevor's    very 
p-eat  and  cathke  satisfaction.    Only  to  the  Dean's 
ripe  and  kindly  wisdom  was  his  name  not  utterly 
anathema.  ' 

"My  d^,"  said  he  once  to  his  wife,  who  was 
deplormg  her  nephew's  character  and  fate, —  "I 
have  hopes  of  Ohver  even  yet.  A  man  must  have 
something  of  the  devil  in  him  if  he  wants  to  drive 
the  devil  out. 

Mrs.  Conover  was  shocked. 

"  My  dear  Edward  I"  she  cried. 

"My  dear  Sophia,"  said  he  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
mJd  blue  eyes  that  had  puzzled  her  from  the  day 
when  he  first  put  a  decorous  arm  around  her  waist. 
My  dear  Sophia,  if  you  knew  what  a  dinL'-dong 
scrap  of  fiends  went  on  inside  me  before  I  could 
Drmg  myself  to  vow  to  be  a  virtuous  milk-and-water 


24 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


^woKS  ^^?^  -^^  '°"S  ^d  beautiful  as 
ever,  would  stand  up  str-jght  on  end." 

Mrs.  Conover  sighed. 

I  ^ve  you  up. 
"It  8  too  late,    said  the  Dean. 

The  Manningtrees,  father  and  mother  and  «nn 

DMty.  Then  Pegfy  Conover,  liitherto  under  the 
echpse  of  boarding-schools,  finishing  sinnd  Si 
X'^'ArC^h  *^'  T  ?^  'went":;i?hb  Ws 
SSfvei^^reeS^^  ^^e^yprit^X 

Ct.^        •  ^1     *X™^  ^*>'^<i  not  marrv  a  oarson 

amusingly.  He  provetf  himself  to  beTSS^  t^v 
too.  He  was  at  W  beck  aU  day  lone  He  r«n  nn 
T\rfu'  hefetched  and  carried.  fcS;ealisedTC 
fully  that  she  owned  him.  He  haunt^  KTane^' 
One  evemng  after  dinner  the  Dean  said  ^' 

thJnLT.P"'^  ^  P'^y  .*^^  '^'^^^  father.'  How  are 
tnmgs  between  you  and  PeggyP^*  ■ 

Marmaduke,  taken  unawares,  reddened  viol-ntiv 
He  murmured  that  he  didn't  know.  ^'o'-nfy- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  25 

"  You  ought  to  ••  said  the  Dean.    "  When  a  younit 
man  converte  himself  into  a  girl's  shadow/ ev^ 

^UhT"  /  "^  ^*i![-,T^  "°*^  ^«*  J'een  brought  up 
wil^her  from  chUdhopd    people  begin  to  iossip. 

th:i?^re7t  Si^  ^^^^'^^^    "^'^  ^^^ 
The  Dean  smiled.    "  What  were  they?  " 

d„k  J*'  T^^  V  ^^  ?u®  "  "u"'^'"  '«P^«d  Manna- 
duke.    Then,   feehng  that  the   Dean  was  kindly 

(hsposed,  he  blurted   out  awkwardly:    "I  hooed 

.  *tS°®  ^^y  ^  ™'«l^t  ask  her  to  marry  me  " 
That  8  what  I  wanted  f«  know,"  said  the  Dean. 

You  haven  t  done  it  yet?  ' 

"No,"  said  Marmuduke. 

"Why  don't  you?" 
madiif  *™^  tal^g  such  a  hberty,"  replied  Mar- 

-^e  bean  laughed.  "  WeU,  I'm  not  going  to  do 
it  for  you.  My  chief  desire  is  to  re^arise  the 
Eft  "'"n-,  }  «an't  have  you  two  running 
about  together  aU  day  and  every  day.    If  you  likl 

motS's?^^'  ^°"  "^  pennission  4id  her 

•'Thaiik  you.  Uncle  Edward,"  said  Marmaduke. 

Let  us  jom  the  ladies,"  said  the  Dean, 
in  the  drawmg-room  the  Dean  exchanged  glances 
with  his  wife.  She  saw  that  he  had  donlasK^ 
been  bidden.  Marmaduke  was  not  an  ideal  husband 
tor  a  brisk,  pleasure-loving,  modem  young  wman 
But  where  was  another  husband  to  come  from? 
Peggy  had  banned  the  Church.  Marmaduke  was 
wealthy,  sound  in  health,  and  free  from  vice  It 
was  obvious  to  maternal  eyes  'hat  he  was  in  love 
with  Peggy.  According  to  the  Dean,  if  he  wasn't, 
he  oughtn  t  to  be  forever  at  her  heels.  The  vouak 
woman  herself  seemed  to  take  considerable  pleasure 


26 


THE  ROUGH  ROVD 


Is  r 


h^' 


in  hk  company.    If  she  cared  nothing  for  him  she 

hf »  "m     °^^f  ^^'i  ^^"V  uncomfortable.    Never  harf 
he  said  a  word  to  her  in  betrayal  of  his  feeUn«     Vlt 

trom    the   forehead    over   his    heaH     HoTt;!      ?^ 
smootted  down  the  cocWhkec?^-t      """^^   ^' 
,  1  ve  been  talking  to  your  father,  Pegffv  " 

Marmaduke  summoned  his  courage 
^^He  told  me  I  might  ask  you  to  marry  me,"  he 

"Do  you  want  to?" 
;0f  course  I  do,"  he  declared. 
Inen  why  not  do  it?" 
But  before  he  could  answer,   she  clannpd   >,», 
hands-on  h.  shoulders  and  shook  hi^  Xu,t^ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"Oh,  you  dear,  silly  old  thinjfl 
propose  to  a  girl  I"  ** 

"I've  never  done  such   a   thinjr 
iJqjgie,  as  soon  as  he  was  released 


27 
What  a  way  to 

before,"   said 


Are  you?" 
it    "t,,"^"'  u  '  """  ■'  '"""^-    *^e  never  thoujrht  of 
"  An    •  ^'i^never  you  like."  '"""Bui  oi 

All  right,"  she  returned  cahnly.    "Let  it  h*  « 
It^  ^T"-^  Meanwhile  we  canZ  engaged     IfU 
please  the  dear  old  birds.    I  know  nil  tifrVoki- 
m  the  town  have  been  mewing  S^^t  m.    No^the^ 
can  mew  about  somebody  else."  ^^owthey 

madlkf ''tK  ?,??1  °^,  y°"'  P«««^'"  «aid  Mar- 
vou  the'lnllLt  ^^  P  ^  ^"^  to-morrow  and  get 
you  ine  joliiest  rmg  you  ever  saw."  " 

al  ^v  rJt^i"^  *^  ^.  ''"^y-    '""""t's  one  thing, 
Jewell^™'''  ^  "^  "^^  y«"  ^-yon'  ta«te  S 
He  moved  nearer  to  her.    "I  suppose  -ou  know 
a  l^g  ttT"'  ''  •"^°  «"^""^  ^-^  ^«     -^^ 

like.    I  assure  you  it's  quite  usual."  ^ 

He  kissed  her  somewhat  shyly  on  the  lips. 
She  whispered:  "I  do  think  I  care  for  vm,  nU 
Amg."  M^aduke  replied  senteXS  yf '•  YoJ 
have  made  me  a  very  happy  man."  Then  thev^t 
down  side  by  side  on  the^^fa,  and  for  eS  PeggVs 
mockmg  audacity,  they  could  find  nothW^i^ 
T  articular  to  say  to  each  other.  ^^^    " 

Let  us  play  patience,"  she  said  at  last. 

she^ouiTd  th™'^-  ^°''''^'''  «?P*"^  «  "^^  later, 
lound  them  poring  over  the  cards  in  a  state  of 

"^  We  Ve '^;^  %  ''^kf  "P'  ^'^•^l^d  nSded^ 
.  neve  fixed  it   up,   Mummy;    but  we're  not 
going  to  be  married  for  a  year." 


38 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Doggie  went  home  t»iat  evening  in  a  tepid  riow. 
It  contented  him.  He  thought  hLself  the  lucK 
of  mortals.  A  voung  man  with  more  passion  or 
magma, on  migk  have  deplored  the  laTof  i^ 
mance  m  the  Ltrothal.  tfe  might  have  d^ 
on  the  part  of  the  maiden  eith^  more  shS^ 

««1  .  u^^^  °^  ^  ^""^  °^«''t  have  shivered, 
ready  to  shrivel,  as  at  a  toudi  of  frost,  in  the  cool 

around  her.  But  Doggie  was  not  such  a  young 
man.  Such  passrons  as  heredity  had  endowed 
him  with  had  been  drugged  by  training  No  tdS 
of  mmortal  love  had  ever  fir^  his  bfood  (^f 
somewhere  abroad,  the  unprinci;  led  McPhail  f3 
tan  readme  Manon  Lescaut~he  had  bought  a 
cheap  copy Tiaphazard,  -and  taking  the  Std)le 
volume  out  of  fcs  hands,  asked  him  Ihat  he  Sih? 

iJ^i}  like  reading  about  a  lunatic,"  repUed  the 
bewddered  Doggie.    "Do  such  people  as  DTGrir^ 

._-Ay,  laddie,"  replied  McPhail,  greatly  relieved. 
Thi  HnT?^  ^T  ?'"'■'=«'  ^  the  roSt  of  ^e  matto 
SL«  w'*'  *""/  no^ada^s  we  put  them  into 
tihP  Z,;k  f  «.'°«V^'=«?e  the  author  for  Uving  m 

tu^^It^«  •T*'  '?S'"""'*y  "f  **>«  eighteenth  len- 
*"K,    ",«  i^^  a  siUy,  rotten  book." 

1  m  glad  you  re  of  the  samr  opinion  as  mvself  " 

but  ^X'  ""**  ■**"'"/^,*  "«  '""'^  °f  ?he  fid 
n*  nu**^?*^^^   pair   of   lovers.    The    unDrinciolpd 

«oi-       ■.  ^?"'  f   Virginie,  which   Doggie    after 

rS^i.'tt'^*'"!^*  'b'  *^He«t  and  mosf VeautiM 
S-      t*'^^?™-    Even  in  later  years,  when  his 

^S'\^f  ['P?"^  "^^  ^  sphere  of  readW 

l^^OthiV^^'^  "P*'"  '^'  ?«^«'°'»  °f  a  Rome! 
or  an  Othello  ss  a  conventional  peg  on  which  the 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  29 

poet  huns;  his  imagery,  but  having  no  more  relation 

Wood-lust  of  the  half-man.  half-buU  t  U.^  or 
ge. uncomfortable  riding  conversaUon  of  the  V.u' 

wi^  £Sf  "^iftlV"'  ^"""^  P«^«=tlv  contented 
wiui  lumself  with  Peggy  Conover,  with  his  Unde 
??.1  ^"^*'  of  whom  KrtWto  he  had  been  iusJn 

hot'' wittik"''^  Fortune.  witiFatr^irhis 
nouse,   with  his  peacock-and-  vory  room    with   » 

Sn&l'r  ^"P*  "°l^  a  maT^'colied 
prool-prmta  which  represented  a  third  of  his  nml 

i?,hr^'fK'^.,?^7^P«P««-  with  wTfeather-g^ 
w  th  Gohath,  his  almost  microscopic  Belgitmg?iffra' 
7^^Z\°^  NUe-green  silk  uSderwefrThfl  had 

Tn^^ntK  ?y  n*'"  ^'^  ^^  "«w  chauffeur  Briggins 
-  (parentheticaUy  ,t  may  be  remarked  that  a  sev^ 
hour  excursion  m  this  vehicle,  youth  in  the  bade 

uons;— with  the  starry  heavens  above,  with  the 
weU-ordered   earth   beneath    them,    and   with   dl 
T^t^  *^"lgf  on  the  earth,  indudLg  Gemans 
Turks,  Infidels  and  Heretics -aU  savf  one^md 
gat.  as  he  learned  from  a  letter  dehver^  by  ^e 

ma^cSX^'-   "  '^°"^'   heartlesTlSidon 
mamcurst  who,  givmg  no  reasons,  resetted  that 

to  Durdlebury  on  the  morrow.     Of  all  days  in  the 

CT'his"Ul'°  '*  "^  ^°*'^  that  hrshoSd 

"What  the  deuce  am  I  going  to  do?"  he  cried 

'^  H^^t*^'  ''"^'  '°l°  *•>?  wastipaper  basket.^ 
.   He  sat  down  to  the  piano  in  the  peacock-and. 

roseieat  ol  a  mamcurist  out  of  h  s  mind     Suddrr.Iv 
he  remembered,  with  a  kind  of  shock,  ihat  he  had 


80 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


pledged  himself  to  go  up  to  London  the  next  day 
to  buy  an  engagement  ring.  So,  after  all,  the 
mamcurist's  defection  did  not  matter.  All  was 
again  well  with  the  world. 

Then  he  went  to  bed  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
just  and  perfect  man  living  the  just  and  perfect 
life  in  a  iuat  and  perfect  universe. 

And  the  date  of  this  happening  was  the  fifteenth 
day  of  July  in  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand  nine 
hundred  and  fourteen. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  shadow  cast  by  the  great  apse  of  the 
Cathedral  slanted  over  the  end  of  the  Deanery 
garden,  leaving  the  house  in  the  blaze  of  the 
afternoon  sun,  and  divided  the  old  red-brick  wall 
into  a  vivid  contrast  of  tones.  The  peace  of  cen- 
turies brooded  over  the  place.  No  outside  convul- 
sions could  ever  cause  a  flutter  of  her  cahn  wings. 
As  it  was  thirty  years  ago,  when  the  Dean  £u«t 
came  to  Durdlebury,  as  it  was  three  hundred,  sbc 
hundred  years  ago,  so  it  was  now;  and  so  it  would 
be  hundreds  of  years  hence  as  long  as  that  majestic 
pile  housing  the  Spirit  of  God  should  last. 

Thus  thought,  thus,  in  some  such  words,  pro- 
clauned  the  Dean,  sitting  in  the  shade,  with  his 
hands  clasped  behind  his  head.  Tea  was  over 
Mrs.  Conover.  thin  and  faded,  still  sat  by  the  little 
table,  wondermg  whether  she  might  now  blow  out 
Uie  lamp  beneath  the  silver  kettle.  Sir  Archibald 
Bruce,  a  neighbouring  landowner,  and  his  wife  had 
come,  bringmg  their  daughter  Dorothy  to  play 
tenms.  The  game  had  abeady  started  on  the  court 
some  Uttle  distance  oiT  —  the  players  being  Dorothy, 
Peggy,  and  a  couple  of  athletic,  flannel-clad  parsons! 
Marmaduke  Trevor  reposed  on  a  chair  under  the 
lee  of  Lady  Bruce.  He  looked  very  cool  aud  spick 
and  span  in  a  grey  cashmere  suit,  grey  shirt,  socks 
and  tie,  and  grey  swede  shoes.  He  had  a  weak, 
good-looking  little  'ace  and  a  httle  black  moustache 
turned  up  to  th  rads.  He  was  discoursing  to  his 
neighbour  on  Palestrina. 

The  Dean's  proclamation  had  been  elicited  by 
some  remark  of  Sir  Archibald. 

81 


32 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


..-'j^iTT^®'"  ^°^  y°"  have  stuck  it  for  so  kne  " 
smd  the  latter.  He  had  been  a  soldier  in  hh  youih 
and  Ml  explorer,  and  had  shot  big  game. 

1  haven  t  your  genius,  my  dear  Bruce,  I  - 1  makinc 
myseL'  uncomfortable  "  rephed  the  Dcm.  ^ 

lou  were  energedc  enough  when  you  irf  ^  "amf 
here,  said  Sir  Ar.'ubald.  %e  all  thoufcL  vrTa 
despercte  feUow  who  was  goins  to  rX,  1<1  fV! 
Ca&edrai,  turn  the  Close  intraus^i^Xuint' 
and  generally  play  the  deuce."  uweiungs. 

As  the  years  went  on  I  found  I  couldn't.  The 
grey  changelessness  of  things  got  hold  of  me  in- 
corporated me  into  them.^  \4en  I  dfe-for  I 
hope  I  shan't  have  to  resign  through  doddering 

f!'i!^\~'?y  i^y   ^^   be   buried^ihere  "  -  hf 

jerked  his  head  slighUy  towards  the  Cathedral - 

and  my  dust  will  become  part  and  pwcelof  the 

f^.™ -.W^e  that  of  many  ofmy  predeCi."      ' 

fj,™  L^!"  ""t^  '^^'"  ^'^  Sir  Archibald,  "but 
^ey  ought  to  have  caught  you  before  tWs  petri- 
faction set  m,  and  made  you  a  bishop  "  ^ 

It  was  somewhat  of  an  old  argument,  for  the  two 
wemtmiates.    The  Dean  snSS  a^dlhook  U^ 

''You  know  I  dechned  — " 

.'.'^ter  you  had  become  petrified." 
Perhaps  so.    It  is  not  a  place  where  ambitions 
nan  attam  a  riotous  growth."  amouions 

"  T 'i*^u  *'f  ??"^?  PJ^''^'"  «^<1  the  elderly  worlding 
^  I^wouldn  t  hve  m  it  myself  for  twent/  thouZfd 

-'s^r.5^  Tj,  ^^^■^%  "^^  ^  crusading  times 
Lor  ,SZi  Chevemx,  for  mstance.  who  was  the 
l^r. ,  perhaps,  of  your  very  manor,  and  an  amazing 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  33 

fire-eater  —  but  —  see  the  gentle  ironv  of  it  —  th«™ 

ThrukTrf'l?  ""■  "¥  "'  "*«  "P  '^  »e. 
.    Jr.     ™'     "  was  a  drowsv  dav     TIia  n=^^ 

capable,    business-like    Dean     There    W;«^^' 

cSh'  Kn^^  thaT-he^rnotXorand 
narf  ff  ,.U"<*«'  .  l"s  /are   the   stability   of  every 

on  his% AT.en?VJrtrrSe  htf S 
m^/yirthe  ett'"^'''''^^  ^^  Jeafou'£;To 

God  had  he,  Its  guardian,  reverently  seef  to  ,?, 

of  yoX  He^n?H"lf  ^'yPT^g  «l>e  anJ)itions 
ui  youinf  He  could  have  had  his  b  shonric-  but 
he  knew  that   the   choice   lay  betweenTi^'  Zl 

Jiadnt  the  sacred  clarge  of  a  cathedS,  a^d  he 


34 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Durdlebuiy  might  possibly  have  regarded  th^L!^ 
make,  one*,  dreadfully  hocShe  "°" 

b-lrcRI.Kidi&d/s;™'^- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  35 

nodiing.    She  nodded  and  wevi  off  f«  h 

and  mforming  Mr.  PetherbrTdge  tL^l^Z  l^^' 

was  a  platitudinous  old  tabby  flirSd^fh^u-^™'* 

It  all  depends,"  he  m-eu«l     "f^,      .u 

whlWalw^Js  a;  t^'^^l  u«™-  "!*•« 
Only  last  weekTe  caSt  f  se^^S.^  f -^"^  «°«"- 
wa^    I  had  to  rub  his^cherwirct^ph^ra^^^  oH^ 

ASZVi^  X:nJ-  on  agents,  and 
Mannaduke  was  quite  haDDvH»r°''^'' u-'""^^*- 
two  elderly  ladies  atW^P^t'l,.^  ^I^  **>«*  ^^ 
views  and  t^alk«l  Z  ^^t  one  oFtb^tXef  "^ 

his'Sr'thn'al  b^n'f  T  S""^''^^"?  - 
purred.  The  old  butler  Vo>^*'i^  ^°"ld  have 
service  of  the  Deanei^  as  t^ T.h!^  f  ?^  ,?  *he 
had  been  page  and  fcStm«n  t!.  n  ^^^^  itself -he 
cessor,  -remo^  th^  ?«?tl°  ^-  ^onover's  prede- 
a  tra^  of  gkW«nH  ^^-t^mp  and  brought  out 

-fresLS/'a^rl'Tdestf  tJ  £  '^« 


36 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Anyone  looking  over  the  garden  wall  would  have 
beheld  a  scene  typical  of  the  heart  of  England  — 
a  scene  of  peace,  ease,  and  perfectly  ordered  com- 
fort. The  two  well-built  young  men,  one  a  minor 
canon,  the  other  a  curate,  lounging  in  their  flannels, 
clever-faced,  honest-eyed,  could  have  been  bred 
nowhere  but  in  English  pubUc  schools  and  at  Oxford 
or  Cambridge.  The  two  elderly  ladies  were  of  the 
fine  flower  of  Provincial  England;  the  two  old 
men,  so  different  outwardly,  one  burly,  florid, 
excpiisitely  ecclesiastical,  the  other  thin,  nervous, 
soldierly,  each  was  an  expression  of  high  Enghsh 
tradition.  The  two  young  girls,  unerringly  correct 
and  dainty  for  all  their  modern  abandonment  of 
attitude,  pretty,  flushed  of  cheek,  frank  of  glance, 
were  two  of  a  hundred  thousand  flowers  of  girlhood 
ttiat  could  have  been  picked  that  afternoon  in  lazy 
EngUsh  gardens.  And  Marmaduke's  impeccable 
grey  costume  struck  a  harmonizing  English  note 
of  Bond  Street  and  the  Burlington  Arcade.  The 
scent  of  the  roses  massed  in  delicate  splendour 
against  the  waU,  and  breathing  now  that  the  cool 
shade  had  fallen  on  them,  crept  through  the  still 
air  to  the  flying  buttresses  and  the  window  mullions 
and  traceries  and  the  pinnacles  of  the  great  English 
cathedral.  And  in  the  midst  of  the  shaven  lawn 
gleamed  the  old  cut-glass  jug  on  its  silver  tray. 

Someone  did  look  over  the  wall  and  survey  the 
scene:  a  man,  apparently  supporting  himself  with 
tense,  straightened  arms  on  the  coping;  a  man 
with  a  lean,  bronzed,  clean-shaven  face,  wearing 
an  old  soft  felt  hat  at  a  swaggering  angle;  a  man 
with  a  smile  on  his  face  and  a  humorous  twinkle  in 
his  eyes.  By  chance  he  had  leisure  to  survey  the 
scene  for  some  time  unobserved.  At  last  he  shouted : 
"Hello!  Have  none  of  you  ever  moved  for  the 
last  ten  years?" 
At  the  summons  everyone  was  startled.    The 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


37 


young  men  scrambled  to  their  feet.    The  Dean 
rose  and  glared  at  the  intruder,  who  sprang  over  the 
wall,  recklessly  broke  through  the  rose-bushes  and 
advanced  with  outstretched  hand  to  meet  him. 
"HeUo,  Uncle  Edward!" 

"Goodness  gracious  mel"  cried  the  Dean,  "it's 
Oliver!" 

"Right  first  time,"  said  the  young  man,  gripping 
hun  by  the  hand.  "You're  not  looking  a  day  oMer. 
And  Aunt  Sophia  — "he  strode  up  to  Mrs.  Conover 
and  kissed  her.  "Do  you  know,"  he  went  on, 
holding  her  at  arms'  length  and  looking  round  at 
the  astonished  compcmy,  "the  last  time  I  saw  you 
all  you  were  doing  just  the  sari<^?  I  peei-?d  over 
the  wall  just  before  I  went  away,  just  such  a  summer 
afternoon  as  this,  and  you  were  all  sitting  round 
drinking  the  same  old  lemonade  out  of  the  same  old 
jug  —  and.  Lady  Bruce,  you  were  here,  and  you, 
Sir  Archibald"  —  he  shook  hands  with  them  rapidly. 
"You  haven't  changed  a  bit.  And  you  —  good 
Lord!  Is  this  Peggy?"  He  put  his  hand  on  the 
Dean's  shoulder  and  pointed  at  the  girl. 

"That's  Peggy,"  said  the  Dean. 

"You're  the  only  thing  that's  grown.  I  used 
to  gallop  with  you  on  my  shoulders  all  round  the 
lawn.  I  ^uppose  you  remember?  How  do  you 
do?" 

And  without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  kissed  her 
soundly.  It  was  all  done  with  whirlwind  suddenness. 
The  tempestuous  young  man  had  scattered  every- 
one's wits.    All  stared  at  him. 

Releasing  Peggy,  "My  holy  Aunt!"  he  cried. 
"There's  another  of  'em.  It's  Doggie!  You  were 
in  the  old  picture,  and  I'm  blessed  if  you  weren't 
wearing  the  same  bear-tiful  grey  suit.  How  do, 
Doggie?" 

He  gripped  Doggie's  hand.  Doggie's  lips  grew 
white. 


38 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


..d'^'"!  8'«<*,*o  ''elcome  you  back,  Oliver,"  he  said. 
M  "     d^   "      ^^  ^°"  ^  ^°^  *^**  ™y  °™®  ^ 

"Sooner  be  called  Doggie  myself,  old  chap." 
said  Oliver.  ^ 

He  stepped  back,  smiling  at  them  all,  a  handsome 
devd-may-care  fellow,  tall,  tough,  and  supple,  hii 
nands  in  the  pockets  of  a  sun-stained,  double- 
breasted  bluejacket. 

"We're  indeed  glad  to  see  you,  my  dear  fellow," 
said  the  Dean,  recovering  equanimity,  "but  what 
have  you  been  doing  aU  this  time,  and  where  on 
earth  have  you  come  from?" 
_  "I've  just  come  from  the  South  Seas.  Arrived 
m  London  last  evening.  This  morning  I  thought 
1  d  come  and  look  you  up." 

"^^''.'f  .y°"  ^^^  '®*  "^  '^ow  you  were  coming, 
we  should  have  met  you  at  the  station  with  thectff. 
Where  s  vour  luggage?" 

He  jerked  a  hand.  "In  the  road.  My  man's 
sitting  on  it.  Oh,  don't  worry  about  him,"  he  cried 
Mrdv  to  the  protesting  Dean.  "He's  weU  trained. 
He  U  go  on  sittmg  on  it  all  night." 

"You've   brought   a  man  — a    valet?"    asked 


i  you  out  very  well,"  said 


It  seems  so." 
'"Then  ^ou  must  be  getting  on." 
"I  don't  think  he  turns  you  out 
Doggie. 

"You  must  really  let  one  of  the  servants  see 
about  your  thmgs,  Ohver,"  said  Mrs.  Conover 
movmg  towards  the  porch.    "What  wiU  people  say?'' 

He  strode  after  her  and  kissed  her.  "Oh  vou 
dear  old  Durdelbury  Aunt!  Now  I  know  I'm  m 
England  agam.  I  haven't  heard  those  words  for 
years! 

Mrs.  Conover's  hospitable  intentions  were  an- 
Ucipated  by  the  old  butler,  who  advanced  to  meet 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  39 

tiiem  with  the  news  that  Sir  Archibald's  car  had 
been  brought  round.  As  soon  as  he  recognized 
Ohver  he  started  back,  mouth  agape. 

"u^^J-i^'r^  ^^.^  "«^^'  Burford,"  laughed  Oliver. 
How  did  I  get  here?    I  dropped  from  the  moon." 
He  shook  hands  with  BuiTord,  of  whose  hfe  he 
bad  been  the  plague  during  his  childhood,   pro- 
claimed bun  as  hardy  and  unchanging  as  a  gartrovle 
and  mstructed  him  where  to  find  man  and  luggaKe! 
The  Bnic^  and  the  two  clerical  tennis  pllyers 
departed.    Marmaduke  was  for  taking  his  leave 
too.    All  his  old  loathing  of  Oliver  had  suddenly 
returned.    His    cousin    stood    for    everything    he 
detested,  —  swagger,  arrogance,  self-assurance.    He 
bated  the  shabby  rakishness  of  his  attire,  the  self- 
assertive  aqmhne  beak  of  a  nose  which  he  bad 
inherited  from  his  father,  the  Rector.    He  dreaded 
his   aggressive   mascuUnity.    He   had   come   back 
witn  the  same  msulting  speech  on  his  hps.    His 
finger-nails  were  dreadful.    Marmaduke  draired  as 
fittle  M  possible  of  his  odious  company.    But  his 
Aunt  Sophia  cried  out,  "You'll  surely  dine  with 
us    to-mght,    Marmaduke,    to    celebrate    Oliver's 
return? 

And  Oliver  chuned  in,  "Do.  And  don't  worry 
about  changing  I  can't.  I've  no  evening  togs. 
My  old  ones  fell  to  bits  when  I  was  trying  to  put 
them  on,  on  board  the  steamer,  and  I  had  to  chuck 
em  overboard.  They  turned  up  a  shark  who  went 
tor  em.  So  dont  you  worry.  Doggie,  old  chap. 
You  look  as  pretty  as  paint  as  you  are.  Doesn't  he, 
Peggy?" 

Peggy,  with  a  slight  flush  on  her  cheek,  came  to 
the  rescue  and  Unked  her  arm  in  Marmaduke's. 

You  haven't  had  time  to  learn  everything  yet, 
UUver;  but  I  thmk  you  ought  to  know  that  we  are 
engaged. 

"Holy    Gee!    Is    that   so?    My    compliments." 


40 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


1^1 


"God  bless  you,  my 


And 
juch 


He  swept  them  a  low  bow 
children." 

"Of  course  he'll  stay  to  dinner,"  said  Peggy 
she  looked  at  Oliver  as  who  should  say  " 
him  at  your  peril.    He  belongs  to  me." 

So  Doggie  had  to  yield.    Mrs.   Conovcr  went 
into  the  house  to  arrange  for  Oliver's  co  nfort  and 
the  others  strolled  round  the  garden. 
,   "WeU  my  boy,"  said  the  Dean,  "so  you're  back 
m  the  old  country." 

"Turned  up  again  like  a  bad  penny." 

The  Dean's  kindly  face  clouded.  "I  hope  you'll 
soon  be  able  to  find  something  to  do." 

"  *  u^  ™oney  I  want,  not  work,"  said  Oliver. 
Ahl"  said  the  Dean,  in  a  tone  so  thoughtful  as 
just  to  suggest  a  lack  of  sympathy. 

Oliver  looked  over  his  shoulder  — the  Dean  and 
hunself  were  preceding  Marmaduke  and  Peggy 
on  the  trim  gravel  path.  "  Do  you  care  to  lend  me 
a  tew  thousands,  DoggieP" 

"Certainly  not,"  replied  Marmaduke. 

'There's  family  affection  for  you.  Uncle  Edward  I 
1  ve  come  half  way  round  the  earth  to  see  him  and 
—  say,  will  you  lend  me  a  fiver?" 

"  .J^^J'lf**  •*•"  ®^*^  Marmaduke  in  a  dignified 
way,  1  shall  be  very  happy  to  advance  you  five 
pounds. 

Oliver  brought  the  little  party  to  a  halt  and  burst 
mto  laughter. 

"I  believe  you  good  people  think  I've  come  back 
broKe  to  the  world.  The  black  sheep  returned 
like  a  wolf  to  the  fold.  Only  Peggy  drew  a  correct 
inference  from  the  valet —  wait  tiU  you  see  him  I 

vut^^/^^'  K""^  ^^^"  ge"i°g  on-  He  laid  a 
light  hand  on  the  Dean's  shoulder.  "While  all 
you  folks  m  Durdlebury,  especially  my  dear  Doggie, 
lor  the  last  ten  years  have  been  durdling,  I've  been 
doing.     I've  not  come  ail  this  way  to  tap  lelations 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


41 


for   fivfr-pound   notes.    I'm   swaggering   into   the 
K      ^"°»"  lor  Capital  —with  a  great  big  C." 
Marmaduke  twirled  his  little  moustache.    "You've 
taken  to  company  promoting,"  he  remarked  acidly. 
TT    I    #j®'    J        *  damn  — I  beg  your  pardon, 
Uncle  Edward  — we  poor  Pacific  Islanders  lisp  in 
damns  for  want  of  deans  to  hold  us  up  —  and  a 
joUy  good  company  too.    We  —  that's  I  and  an- 
other man  —  that's  all  the  company  as  yet  —  two's 
conipany,  you  know  —  own  a  trading-fleet." 
"You  own  ships  I"  cried  Peggy. 
"Rather.    Own    'em,    sail    'em,    navigate    'em, 
stoke   em,  clean  out  the  boilers,  sit  on  the  safety 
valves  when  we  want  to  make  speed,  do  every  old 
thing — "  ' 

"And  what  do  you  trade  in?"  asked  the  Dean. 
^^  Copra,  beche  de  mer,  mother  of  pearl  — " 
"Mother    of   pearl!    How    awfully    romantici" 
cned  Peggy. 

"We've  got  a  fishery.  At  any  rate,  the  con- 
c^ion.  To  work  it  properly  we  require  capital. 
That  8  why  I'm  here  —  to  turn  the  concern  into  a 
limited  company." 

"And  where  is  this  wonderful  place?"  asked  the 
Dean. 

"Huaheine." 

"What  a  beautiful  wordl" 

"Isn't  it?"  said  Oliver.  "Like  the  sigh  of  a  girl 
m  her  sleep." 

The  old  Dean  shot  a  swift  glance  at  his  nephew; 
then  took  his  arm  and  walked  on,  and  looked  at 
the  vast  mass  of  the  Cathedral  and  at  the  quiet 
English  garden  in  its  evening  shadow. 

"Copra,  Wc/ie  rfe  mer,  mother  of  pearl,  Huaheine," 
he  murmured.  "And  these  strange  foreign  things 
are  the  commonplaces  of  your  lifel" 

Peggv  and  Marmaduke  lagged  behind  a  litUe.  She 
pressed  his  arm. 


42 


THE    ROUGH  ROAD 


i."V?u^,   *'"^.  y""'"^    staying    for   dinner,    I 
shouldn  t  like  to  think  you  were  running  away  from 

.   "I  was  only  afraid  of  losing  my  temper  and  mak- 
ing a  scene,    rephed  Doggie  with  digmHy. 

«js  manners  are  odious,"  said  Peeirv     "Yon 
leave  hun  to  me."  ^"' 

Suddenly  the  Dean,  taking  a  turn  that  brought 
him  into  view  of  the  porchTstopped  short.  * 

is  thatr   ^  gracious!"  he  crie<f.  "who  in  the  world 

He  pointed  to  a  curious  object  slouching  across 
the  lawn;  a  short,  hirsute  man  wearing  a  sailo^ 
ilu7;  ^  ^"""J^*  a  stump  of  a  blackened  pipe. 
?nH  t^f  head  was  bare;  L  had  very  long  ^ 
and  great  powerful  hands  protruded  at  the  end  of 
long  smewy  wrists  from  inadequate  sleeves.  A 
f^.  Vir^"^^  eyes  shone  out  of  his  dark,  shaggy 
i^'^^  ^»^'^^  Dinmonfs.  His  nose  was  l^fe 
and  red.  He  rolled  as  he  walked.  Such  a  sigll 
had  never  been  seen  before  in  the  Deanery  gardln. 

airilv     "h"^  '"*°-    ^^?«^''  ^«l«t'"  ^^  Oliver, 
amly.       His  name  is  CWpmunk.    A  beauty,  isn't 

"Like  master,  like  man,"  murmured  Dogcie 

onWnr  D*^*'^  ?r  '^^^^^  *he  words  Intended 
only  for  Peggy.    He  smiled  brightly. 

If  you  knew  what  a  compliment  you  were  pavine 
me  Doggie,  you  wouldn't  have  said  such  a  K^ 
f  JiTI"^-'  ^"^^  the  company  stare  at  him,  hSted, 
took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  and  scratched  hi^ 

the'K7^''N^Tr.  u^'."^  ^^  Oliver,"  said 
b.,f  Sf^"  ^^  *','"?*  ^?  ^  ^  exceUent  fellow  - 
whe,^  di J''"  ^^  ^^  ""^^'^  "^"^^  ^  P'P«  ^"'e- 

•  I'l'^^  '5?'^„¥  might."  said  Oliver.  "And  he 
jolly  weU  shall."    He  put  his  hand  to  bismuth! 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  43 

sea-fashion  —  tiiey  were  about  thirty  yards  anart 
-and  shouted.  "Here,  you  I  WhalthTeteffi 
blazes  are  you  doing  here?"  eternal 

saiZhTkinifLr   ^^   ^'  '^^'^  '-"-^  •• 

^wr""*-"^®^  *  ^^^^  '"«''  «n  his  uncle.  "His 
H^         ^il°\f^7-    Not  that  kind  of  feelings" 

"Go  to  — " 

the°  DeL,!'*'"*'''"^  ^^^^  ^  ^^  "^  *""««  t« 

;;  Where  shall  I  teU  him  to  p?"  he  asked  sweetly. 

re/eS'th^'lf;^.^"^^"  ""-^^  ^  *^«  ''-t  Pla<' 

•j^r>^"^  I'd  better  go  and  fix  him  up  mvself " 
said  Ohver  "A  httle  conversation  in  h£  o^la;,- 
guage  might  be  beneficial." 

;;But  isn't  he  English?"  asked  Peejrv. 

H^r  "^If"''^  '°  Wapninp."  said  bliver. 

He  marched  off  across  the  lawn;  and,  could  thev 
cTJ"^^  '*•  }5\fri«°dly  talk  that  he  had  S 
Chipmunk  would  have  made  the  Saint  and  the 
Divmes,  and  even  the  Crusader,  Sir  Guy  de  Ch^veiS 
who^ were  buned  m  the  Cathedral,  turn  in  S 

rrrdoi^^."*''  "^  -^^ « ^-Sbi: 

Said  the  Dean:  "At  any  rate,  it  brings  a  certain 
excitement  mto  our  quiet  surroundui^ 

rhey  must  be  having  the  time  of  their  lives  in 
the  servants'  haU,"  said  Peggy.  ^  "^ 


CHAPTER  IV 

AFTER  breakfast   the  next  morning  Docirie 
attired   in  a   green,   shot-silk   dreMin«r3n 

down  to  tS  *"?   7"   P"-^''="l"   room   aK? 
oowii  to  think.     In  its  way  it  was  a  very  beautiful 

Se^Tt^Th'P^t""'    ^'^   Poportio^ed    faS 
peacock-blue.     The  chairs,  the  wriline  tahip    iKa 

(I        g£ri3r  &  !^''£^- 

On  his  neatly  set  out  writing  table  lay^  7von; 

Bits  of  old  embroidery  Lrmonising  with  the  pS: 
cock  shades  were  spread  here  and  there  A  ormv 
uS  werf  eighteenth-century  ItaUaTivoVstaU 
ueites  were  grouped  about  the  room  A  snJnot 
inlaid  with  ebony  and  ivory  form^™'  centrefnr 

flnt«  '  '"?"''?'«?«  gay  with  ribbons,  a  theorbo 
llutes,  and  clarionettes.  Through  he  P..rt„:,?J 
J^'fly  drawn  across  an  alcove  could  be  guess^ 
t^  H^™  monstrosity  of  a  grand  piano^  0^ 
t^j  closed  cabinet  was  devoted  to  s  collection  of 
wall-papers.  Another,  open,  to  ..  coUect/on  of 
httle  dogs  ,n  china,  porcelain,  faience,-  thousands 
ol  them;  he  got  them  throu<'h  Honl^-.  <v  "  ., 
the  world.    He  had  the  finest  collection  S'inc" 

.44 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  45 

5»tf  o'u,'*as  t-X^rs 

hiT   TJ.  '°^-    ^^^^"^    problems    dislracted 

be  renewS     Alr^n/^l'^T"";     "  ^^'^d  have  to 

iM^^^^  i::-te"  tx-£'\?ll 

hand  over  to  his  personal  use  some  o^tl^apaAZnt 
possibly  the  present  drawing-room,  which  recdved 
So  ,t  h'^^^^l  ■«'«':«  °^  the  afternoon  sun  wS 
should  he  do?  Live  in  the  sordidness  of  discoloured 
wall-paper  for  another  year,  or  go  throueh  the  anf 
lety  of  artistic  effort  and  manufacturerVs/ipily 
and  delay,  to  say  nothing  of  the  exnense  nn'^^v  t?^ 
nT  -K  ^hole  tJung  scrapped  befo^e^  tC  'wSnl 
mS"  HthadT^^'^"'^*'^^  clilemmas%r3: 
anSerfe^^lJ^ta^^SoTaTtr^^^^^^^  ^^  ^'^ 

df tj;  rrtSsf.  of  oiit/tveSS,r.:i^^ 

to  have  gone  crazy  over  the  fellow.     U^cle  Edw"?3 

how  the  schooner  had  E'caugh"  iS  some tStlv 
Tnnd.  and  the  masts  had  been  torn  out  and  t^e 
rudder  carried  away,  and  how  it  had  struck  a  re7f 

^l^^J^^r^'^llfl?  ^\^  -  the  hearts 
f  J  Yu  X  r  '^^^  till  he  woke  up  on  a  beach  and 
found  that  the  unspeakable  Chipmmik  had  sw^ 


4« 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


with  hm  for  a  week  —  or  whatever  the  time  was  — 
untd  they  got  to  land  If  hulking,  brainless  dolts 
hke  Ohver,  thought  Doggie,  like  to  fool  around 
in  schooners  and  typhoons,  they  must  take  the 
conse^ences.  There  was  nothing  to  brag  about. 
The  higher  man  was  the  intellectual,  the  aesthetic, 
the  artistic  being.    What  did  Oliver  know  of  Lydiar^ 

T^f  ^  ^"^  «^^*  decoration  or  Aztec  clay 
dogs?  Nothing.  He  couldn't  even  keep  his  socki 
from  sloppmg  about  over  his  shoes,  ^d  there 
was  Peggy  aU  oyer  the  fellow,  although  before 
dinnar^e  had  sai-i  she  couldn't  bear  thi  sight  of 
^A  ?^?Pu  i^'^.Frturbed.  On  bidding  him 
good-mght  she  had  kissed  him  in  the  mostpSrfunc- 
tory  manner  -  merely  the  cousinly  peck  of  a  dozen 

J^u^^°~I^^-  ^^?  ^^^'^  °°  thought  to  the  fact 
that  he  was  dnvmg  horie  m  an  open  car  without  an 
overcoat.  He  had  felt  distinctly  chilly  on  Ws 
arrivd  and  had  t^en  a  dose  of  ammoniat^  quinine. 
Was  Pegp  s  indifference  a  sign  that  she  had  ceased 

^^A  i  ^\,^'^^-  But.  suppose,  as  he  sincerely 
and  devoutly  hoped,  it  wasn't?  Dilemma  on 
dilemma     Added  to  all  this,  GoUath,  the  Ld^. 

htoLlf^te  ^'^°?'  *'«7«'g.Proi'ably  overeaten 
iiimself,  had  comphcated  pains  inside,  and  the 
callous  vet.  could  or  would  not  come  round  till 
the  evenmg.  In  the  meantime  Goliath  mi(?ht  die 
He  was  at  this  point  of  his  reflections  When,  to 
door      *""'  *  familiar  voice  outside  the 

"AU    right,    Peddle.    Don't    worry.    I'U    show 
myself  m.    Look  after  that  man  of  mine.    Quite 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  47 

RSw'"r:i^.°^«^«     "Do  sit  down." 

themySJ^^^H'   water-colour.    Did   you  ^Uect 
"Yes." 

sid^'ol^n.^ ^oSr^'^*  ^°^«^«  «*  °°«=«  to  his 

delightedly  rounlTh7l.,v/  ^°^^®  ^ok  him 
men^tsTid  S  AZ^^^'  «^"^ding  their 
Oliver,  alS.ougrieL^'^C  "f  ^^'^'^  *^«* 
light  and  colouTanH  t^o  'h  ^  .*™«  s«°8e  of 
to  like  hin  Sn  ttie  t^n^t«=^n''^  J""*  beginning 
the  collSon  Wtle1oir±^°JI'  ^^^^^e  ^'^'^ 
'.'My  holy  Air**hf'<S     r"^^-  • 

ht?ouSriftS;^fft\^^^^^^^ 

s°^;h^^.^p^"5ie-^tj^^^^^^ 

sandpouX' '         ^'    ^'^  '^  ^°rth  several  thoi- 

de.d:'%lZe  ™J'S*y°"''^?"^^afunny 
selfasafu^fdevfl'SsrS  fP^'T^^^  of  hW- 
I  can  undei^tend  BuTXt  thP^f ""?  ^^  """?'« 
of  these  danm  Uttle  dogTr       '  '''"'^  ''  *^^  P"^* 

fy  ;oe^lS""^dt?-    ""  "«'^'^  ''^  "-'-  to 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


II         I 


48 

to^^rcoS  °^  '^  ^«*  --^  «-*  •*  «ki-°ing  o. 
"Look  here,  old  chap."  he  saiH     "t  »„ 

round  to  try  to  put  things  right ''       ''  ^'^  ^  "^^ 

MiVutZ  ""^^'™*'  •'^  ^^«^'  I'°>  «<"«."  said 
"j^o^>  look  here,  old  Doggie—" 

all  call  v™,  TV>„  •        J     y""'  aquaintance  —  thev 
towh  trSiiSg.    I'Ei  i",  5?" ."».»'»"  pretty 

••But  .•„  »J'»"5,'.''3S:.^t5«S,^, 


j  THE  ROUGH  ROAD  49 

'  'i^^  haven't  the  slightest  intention  of  ever  leading 

the  unnatural  and  frightful  life  you  d^rib?    S^ 

what  jrou  say  doesn't  Ipply  to  ml"  "^^    ®° 

Quite  so,"  replied  Ohver.    "That  wasn't  th^ 

Z^^Z  ^"^-r  The  habit  of*nI7engS! 
aered  m  the  wilds  applies  to  me      Tnst  ..<.  t  ^  ij 

I       OKvJt  I  ^  ?P°'°q'    ««id  Marmaduke. 

!  shodder'  ^fr  ^;„?PPf  ^  boisterously  on  the 
«WaV;      "n.    you    solemn,    comic    cussi"    He 

'  Di^  int  « '°«e-howl  and  knocked  the  ashls  of  ^ 

:  ffit^xt  l,7H*T;r°°«?'^  trembled  lest  hi 
Sins^'vT^  ^^^'"^°  J'^'^e  over  the  ivory 
iTXre   tin  ™^°  *    ^^^   *   feUow    a    chanc^ 

•tron^.  educated  Um^tt-'^  ^*^"  "^'  ^'''^' 
,  I  m  not  strong."  said  Doggie. 

the  blazes  are  you  «,ing  to  do  with  yourS?"      ^* 
h  J^^te^Ci-ur/%r  ih^^S 

w  whirf f  d^' ^^T§ ''^•'^^'^-  soVtw 

•to Tt*:!  ^°-  ^  ^d  Id  come  here  and  souenk 
ke  a  LtUe  mouse  and  eat  out  of  yom-  ha^  TdS 
■id  I  d  take  you  out  with  me  to  the  Islands  ^ 

W  to  LS  r"^'^  ^  ^  a  schooner  and 
now  to  go  about  barefoot  and  swab  decks.    It's  a 


50 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


life  for  a  man,  out  there,  I  tell  you.  If  you've  noth- 
ing better  to  do  than  living  here  snug  like  a  flea  on 
a  dog's  back,  until  you  get  married,  you'd  better 
come." 

Doggie  smiled  pityingly,  but  said  politely,  "Your 
offer  is  very  kind,  Oliver,  but  I  don't  tlunk  that 
kind  of  life  would  suit  me." 

"Oh,  yes,  it  would,"  said  Oliver.  "It  would 
make  you  healthy,  wealthy,  —  if  you  took  a  fancy 
to  put  some  money  into  the  pearl  fishery,  —  and 
wise.  I'd  show  you  the  world,  make  a  man  of  you, 
for  Peggy's  sake,  and  teach  you  how  men  talk  to 
one  another  in  a  gale  of  wind. 

The  door  opened  and  Peddle  appeared. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  OUver,  but  your  man  — " 

"Yes?  that  about  him?  Is  he  misbehaving 
himself?    Kissing  the  maids?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  Peddle,  "but  none  of  them  can 
get  on  with  their  work.  He  has  drunk  two  quart 
jugs  of  beer  and  wants  a  third." 

y^Well,  giveittohim." 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  see  the  m  ji  iutoxiisated,  sir,' 
said  Peddle. 

"You  -^on't.    No  one  has  or  ever  wil'." 

"He  -  ilso  standing  on  his  head,  sir,  in  the 
middle  o.     e  kitchen  table." 

"It's  his  great  parlour-trick.  You  just  try  to  do 
it.  Peddle  —  eg)ecially  after  two  quarts  of  beer. 
He's  showing  his  gratitude,  poor  chap,  just  like  the 
juggler  of  Notre  Dame  in  the  story.  And  I'm 
sure  everybody's  enjoying  themselves?" 

"The  maids  are  nearly  in  hysterics,  sir." 

"But  they're  quite  happy?" 

"Too  happy,  sir." 

"Lordl"  cried  Oliver,  "what  a  lot  of  stuffy  owls 
you  are  I    What  do  you  want  me  to  do?    What 


would  you  like  me  to  io,  Doggie?    It's  your  house?' 
aid  Doggie.    "  I've  had  nothing 


'I  don't  know,"  said 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  51 

to  do  with  such  people.  Perhaps  yon  might  go 
and  speak  to  him.  e      8" 

«M^ni-'  ^T'-^^'i  *^J.V  '  *«"  yo"  wliat.  Peddle," 
said  Ohver  brightly.  "You  lure  him  out  into  the 
stable  yard  with  a  great  hunk  of  pie  — he  adores 
^-'^iiT-""^  teU  him  to  sit  Uiere  and  eat  it  till  I  come. 
1  ell  him  I  said  so. 

.'.'  Jj  ^  ^''a*  "^  ^  done,  sir,"  said  Peddle. 
1  dont  mean  to  be  inhospitable,"  said  Doggie 
after  lie  butler  had  gone,  "Lt  whV  do  you  tike 
tins  extraordmary  person  about  with  you?" 

I  wanted  him  to  see  Durdlebury  and  Durdle- 
bury  to  see  him.  Do  it  good,"  replied  Oliver. 
J.NOW,  what  about  my  proposition?  Out  there  of 
course  you  U  be  my  guest.  Put  yourself  in  charge 
ol  Uupmunk  and  me  for  eight  months,  and  vouTl 
never  regret  it.  What  Chipmunk  doesn't  know 
about  shiM  Mid  drmk  and  hard  Uvmg  isn't  knowl- 
edge. We  U  let  you  down  easy  —  treat  you  kindly 
—  word  of  honour.  ' 

Doggie,  being  a  man  of  intelligence,  realised  that 
UUver  8  offer  arose  from  a  genuine  desire  to  do  him 
some  kmd  of  service.  But  if  a  friendly  bull  out  of 
^  .uhiras  ot  Its  affection  invited  you  to  accompany 
him  to  the  meadow  and  eat  grass,  what  could  you 
do  but  courteously  decline  the  invitation?  This  is 
what  Doggie  did.  After  a  furlier  attempt  at 
persuasion,  Ohver  grew  impatient,  and  picking  up 
his  hat,  stuck  It  on  the  side  of  his  head.  He^as  a 
simple-natured,  impulsive  man.  Peggy's  spirited 
attack  had  caused  him  to  realize  that  he  had 
treated  Doggie  with  unprovoked  rudeness;  but 
then  Doggie  was  such  a  Uttle  worm.  Suddenly  the 
great  scheme  for  Doggie's  regeneration  had  entered 
bis  head,  and  generously  he  had  rushed  to  begin  to 
put  it  mto  execution.  The  pair  were  his  blood 
relations,  after  aU.  He  saw  his  way  to  domg  them 
a  good  turn.    Peggy,  with  aU  her  go,  —  exemplified 


52 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


by  the  maimer  in  which  she  had  gone  for  him,  — 
was  worth  the  trouble  he  proposal  to  take  with 
Doggie.  It  really  was  a  handsome  offer.  Most 
fellows  would  have  jumped  at  the  prospect  of  being 
shown  round  the  islands  with  an  old  hand  who 
knew  the  whole  thing  backwards,  from  company- 
promoting  to  beach-combing.  He  had  not  ex- 
pected such  a  point-blank,  bland  refusal.  It  made 
him  angry. 

"I'm  really  most  obliged  to  you,  Oliver,"  said 
Doggie,  finally.    "But  ofir  ideals  are  so  entirely 
different.    You're  primitive,  you  know.    You  seem 
to  find  your  happiness  in  defying  the  elements, 
whereas  I  find  mme  in  adopting  the  resources  of 
civilisation  to  circumvent  them.' 
He  smiled,  pleased  with  his  Uttle  epigram. 
"Which  means,"  said  OUver,  "that  you're  afraid 
to  roughen  your  hands  and  spoil  your  compledon." 
"If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way  —symbolically." 
"Symbofically  be  hangedl"  cried  Oliver,  losing 
his  temper.    "You're   an  effeminate  little   rotter 
and  I'm  through  with  you.    Go  on  and  wag  your 
tail  and  ait  up  and  beg  for  biscuits  — " 

"Stop!"  shouted  Doggie,  white  with  sudden 
anger  which  shook  him  from  head  to  foot.  He 
marched  to  the  door,  his  j^een  silk  dressing-gown 
fl*M)>nf  round  his  legs,  and  threw  it  wide  open. 
"This  IS  my  house.  I'm  sorry  to  have  to  ask  you 
to  g3t  out  of  it." 

Oliver  looked  intently  for  a  few  seconds  into  the 
flaming  little  dark  eyes.    Then  he  said  gravely: 

"  I'm  a  beast  to  have  said  tfiat.  f  take  it  all 
back.    Good-bye." 

"Good  day  to  you,"  said  Doggie;  and  when  the 
door  was  shut  he  went  and  threw  himself,  shaken, 
on  the  couch,  hating  Oliver  and  all  his  works  more 
than  ever.  Go  about  barefoot  and  swab  decks  I 
It  was  Bedlam  madness.    Besides  being  dangerous 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


53 


to  health,  it  would  be  excruciating  discomfort.  And 
to  be  insulted  for  not  grasping  at  such  martyrdom. 
Itwasmtolerable. 

Dogrie  stayed  away  from  the  Deanery  all  that 
day.  On  the  morrow  he  heard,  to  his  reUef,  that 
Uliyer  had  returned  to  London  with  the  unedifyiue 
Chipmunk.  He  took  Peggy  for  a  drive  m  the 
Holb-Royce,  and  told  her  of  Oliver's  high-handed 
methods.    She  sympathised.    She  said,  however: 

"Oliver's  a  rough  diamond." 

"He's  one  of  Nature's  non-gentlemen,"  said 
Doggie. 

She  laughed  and  patted  his  arm.  "Clever  lad  I" 
she  said. 

So  Doggie's  wounded  vanity  was  healed.  He 
confided  to  her  some  of  his  difficulties  as  to  the 
peacock-and-ivory  room. 

"Bear  with  the  old  paper  for  my  sake,"  she  said. 

Us  somethmg  you  can  do  for  me.  In  the  mean- 
while you  and  I  can  put  our  heads  together  and 
design  a  topping  scheme  of  decoration.  It's  not 
too  early  to  start  in  right  now,  for  it'll  take  mon'hs 
ana  months  to  get  the  house  just  as  we  want  it." 

..     J*"?'®  *^®  ^^*  ^^  ^  ^^  world,"  said  Doggie; 
and  the  way  you  understand  me  is  simply  won- 
derful." 

"Dear  old  thing,"  smiled  Peggy;  "you're  no 
great  conundrum." 

Happiness  once  more  settled  on  Doggie  Trevor. 
For  the  next  two  or  three  days  he  and  Peggy  tackled 
^e  serious  problem  of  the  reorganization  of  Denby 
Hall.  Peggy  had  the  large  ideas  of  a  limited  though 
acute  bram  stimulated  by  social  ambitions.  When 
she  became  mistress  of  Denby  Hall,  she  intended 
to  reverse  the  mvisible  boundary  that  included  it 
m  Durdlebury  and  excluded  it  from  the  County. 
It  was  to  be  County  —  of  the  fine,  inner  Arcanum 
of  county  —  and  oidy  Durdlebury  by  the  grace  of 


54 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Peggy  Trevor, 
iiei 


No  "durdling,"  as  Oliver  called  it, 
for  lier.  Denby  Hall  was  going  to  be  the  very 
latest  thing  of  September,  1915,  when  she  prop<wed, 
the  honeymoon  concluded,  to  take  smart  and 
startling  possession.  Lots  of  Mrs.  Trevor's  rotten 
old  stuffy  furniture  would  have  to  go.  Marmaduke 
would  have  to  revolutionise  his  habits.  As  she 
would  have  all  kinds  of  jolly  people  down  to  stay, 
additions  must  be  made  to  the  house.  Withm 
a  week  after  her  engagement  she  had  devisied  all 
the  improvements.  Marmaduke's  room,  with  a 
great  bay  thrown  out,  would  be  the  drawing-room. 
The  present  drawing-room,  nucleus  of  a  new  wing, 
would  be  a  dancing-room,  with  parquet  flooring; 
when  not  used  for  tangos  and  the  fashionable 
negroid  dances,  it  would  be  called  the  morning-room; 
beyond  that  there  would  be  a  bilUard-room.  Above 
this  first  floor  there  could  easily  be  built  a  series  of 
guest  chambers.  As  for  Marmaduke's  library, 
or  study,  or  den,  any  old  room  would  do.  "There 
were  a  couple  of  bedrooms  overlooking  the  stable- 
yard^  which,  thrown  into  one,  would  do  beautifully. 
With  feminine  tact  she  dangled  these  splendours 
before  Doggie's  infatuated  eyes,  instinctivdy  choos- 
ing the  opportunity  of  his  gratitude  for  soothing 
treatment.  Doggie  telegraphed  for  Sir  Owen  Julius, 
R.  A.,  surveyor  to  the  Cathedral,  the  only  architect 
of  his  acquaintance.  The  great  man  sent  his 
partner,  plain  John  Fox,  who  undertook  to  prepare 
a  design. 

Mr.  Fox  came  down  to  Durdlebury  on  the  28th 
of  July.  There  had  been  a  lot  of  siUy  talk  in  the 
newspapers  about  Austria  and  Serbia  to  which 
Doggie  had  given  little  heed.  There  was  always 
trouble  in  the  Balkan  States.  Recently  they  had 
gone  to  war.  It  had  left  Doggie  quite  cold.  They 
were  all  "Men-y  Widow,"  irresponsible  people. 
They  dressed  in  queer  uniforms  and  picturesque 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


55 


costumes,  and  thought  themselves    tremendously 
important,    and    were   always   squabbUng   amoni 
themselves  and  would  go  on  doing  it  till  the  day^ 
Doom.    Now  there  was  more  fuss.    He  had  read 
m  the  Morning  Post  that  Sir  Edward  Grw  had 
proposed  a  Conference  of  the  Great  Powers.    Only 
sensible   thmg  to   do,    thought   Doggie.    He   dis- 
missed the  trivial  matter  from  his  mind.    On  the 
morning  of  the  29th  he  learned  that  Austria  had 
dedared  war  on  Serbia.    StiU,  what  did  it  matter? 
Doggie  had   held  aloof  from    politics.    He  re- 
garded  them  as  somewhat  vulgar.    Conservative 
bv  caste,  he  had  once,  when  the  opportunity  was 
ahnost  forced  on  him,  voted  for  the  Conservative 
candidate  of  the  constituency.    European  poUtics 
on  the  grand  scale  did  not  arouse  his  interest  at  all. 
lingland,  save  as  the  wise  Mentor,  had  nothing 
to  do  with  them.    StiU,  if  Russia  fought,  Franw 
would  have  to  join  her  aUy.    It  was  not  till  he  went 
to  the  Deanery  that  he  began  to  contemplate  the 
possibhty  of  a  general   European  war.    For  the 
next  day  or  two  he  read  his  newspapers  very  care- 
On  Saturday,  the  1st  of  August,  Oliver  suddenly 
reappeared,  proposing  to  stay  over  the  Bani  Holiday. 
He  brought  news  and  rumours  of  war  from  the  great 
city.    He  had  found  money  very  tight.  Capital  with 
a  big  C  unpossible  to  obtain.    Everyone  told  him 
to  come  back  when  the  present  European  cloud  had 
blown  over.    In  the  opinion  of  the  judicious  it 
would  not  blow  over.    There  was  going  to  be  war 
and  England  could  not  stay  out  of  it.    The  Sonday 
mormng  papers  confirmed  all  he  said.    Germany 
had  declared  war  on  Russia.    France  was  involved. 
Would  Great  Britain  come  in,  or  for  ever  lose  her 
honour? 

That  warm,  beantiful  Sunday  afternoon  they  sat 
on  the  peaceful  lawn  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 


S6 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Cathedral.  Burford  brought  out  the  tea-tray  and 
Mrs.  Conover  poured  out  tea.  Sir  Archibald  and 
Lady  Bruce  and  their  daughter  Dorothy  were  there 
and  Doggie,  impeccable  in  dark  purple.  Nothing 
clouded  tBe  centuries-old  serenity  of  the  place.  Yet 
they  asked  the  question  that  was  asked  on  every 

r'et  lawn,  eveiy  Uttle  scrap  of  ^aded  garden 
Dughout  the  Icuid  that  day:  Would  Engmd  go 
to  war? 

And  if  she  came  in,  as  come  she  must,  what  would 
be_  tbe  result?  All  had  premonitions  of  strange 
shifting  of  destinies.  As  it  was  yesterday  so  it  was 
to-day  in  that  gracious  shrine  of  unmutability.  But 
everyone  knew  in  his  heart  that  as  it  was  to-day  so 
would  it  not  be  to-morrow.  Tne  very  word  "war" 
seemed  as  out  of  place  as  the  suggestion  of  Hell  in 
Paradise.  Yet  the  throb  of  the  War  Drum  came 
over  the  broad  land  of  France  and  over  the  sea  and 
half  over  England,  and  its  echo  fell  upon  the  Deanery 
garden,  flung  by  the  flying  buttresses  and  piers  and 
towers  of  the  grey  Cathedral. 

On  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  the  5th  of  August, 
it  thimdered  all  over  the  Close.  The  ultimatum  to 
Germany  as  to  Belgium  had  expired  the  night  before. 
We  were  at  war. 

"Thank  God,"  said  the  Dean,  at  breakfast,  "we 
needn't  cast  down  our  eyes  and  slink  by  when  we 
meet  a  Frenchman." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  firet  thing  that  brought  the  seriousness 
of  the  war  home  to  Doggie  was  a  letter  from 
John  ''ox.  John  Fox,  a  Major  in  a  Terri- 
torial Regiment,  was  mobilised.  He  regretted  that 
he  could  not  give  his  personal  attention  to  the 
proposed  alterations  at  Denby  Hall.  Should  the 
plans  be  proceeded  with  in  Ws  absence  from  the 
office,  or  would  Mr.  Trevor  care  to  wait  till  the  end 
of  the  war,  which,  from  the  nature  of  things,  could 
not  last  very  long?  Doggie  trotted  off  to  Peggy. 
She  was  greatly  annoyed. 

"What  awful  rot!  she  cried.  "Fox,  a  Major  of 
ArtiUeryl  I'd  just  as  soon  trust  you  with  a  gun. 
Why  doesn't  he  stick  to  his  architecture?" 

"He'd  be  shot  or  something,  if  he  refused  to  go," 
said  Doggie.  "But  why  can't  we  turn  it  over  to 
Sir  Owen  Julius?" 

"That  old  archaeological  fossil?" 

Peggy,  womanlike,  forgot  that  they  had  ap- 
proadied  him  in  the  first  place.  "He'd  never  be- 
gin to  understand  what  we  want.  Fox  hinted  as 
much.  Now,  Fox  is  modem  and  up-to-date  and 
sympathetic.  If  I  can't  have  Fox,  I  won't  have 
Sir  Owen.  Why,  he's  older  than  Dad  I  He's 
decrepit.    Can't  we  get  (mother  architect?" 

"Do  you  think,  dear,"  said  Doggie,  "that,  in  the 
circumstances  it  would  be  a  nice  thmg  to  do?" 

She  flashed  a  glance  at  him.  She  had  woven  no 
yoimg  girl's  romantic  illusions  around  Marmaduke. 
.Should  necessity  have  arisen,  she  could  have  fur- 
niahed  you  with  a  merciless  analysis  of  his  character. 
But  in  that  analysis  she  would  have  frankly  included 

57 


w 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


!• 


"I   .„_  .        "*"•"  "^asn  t  quite  nicp 

-half  hTr  wirftK  f "  r^"?'    "We 
the  same  "  *"  "  "***«»  nuisance  all 

people  like  FW  ^  ,h?  ^°  ™««n8  unpatriotic 
^fn,m  Fatty  D^SeSro)^  5.^^'/ i^ ^- 

became  a  mass  of  ^  „^i.^'^  ,•  ^P^  meadows 
khaki.  undyZ^nf^J^^  horse-lmes  and  men  in 

the  old.  5uie?ftt^l'^a  "^.r  *""*«  -  «"d 
soldiery.  The  Dm.  ^li^'"''  *1[^  unaccustomed 
oflScers^ndlln^h^^^^^JJ^  Colonel  «"d 
men  holdinir  the  Kin^v      ^as  luU  of  eager  young 

mired  tht^pSriofe^^'XE  ^^'^'V^' 
hearted  embodiment  of  tfm  .«^.  .^."^  ^hole- 

s^medtohZ^oid4s^„'S^.«P^^^    ^?y 

The  way  thev  clank^  „K^r-    .r*?""  "«^  t^de. 

and  spu^  imt  on  Ws  nP,^     h   *?^'^  ^^^^  hoots 

Peggy  8hoK°affect^'bvVh."'  '^T^^  ^  ^^^ 
tion  of  a  unifonT  7^,7        meretricious  attrac- 

looked  with^atur«i  ^tJ^T^'^'  S?  ^'^°m  PegTy  , 
confided  to  S^tW-r^°"-  P''?^^  bitter^ 
brawn."  It  n^Jer  enf/ij  u^^^l  **!f  >lamour  ol^ 
early  days  th^Si  'tE?  b^J^^f^^J  £t^  fc 
of  die  nation  would  be  nS«l  ^  k  j™'"'^'^ 
organized  Anny  and  fe^cSpoS  ^f^i^^ 


THE  ROUGH  HOAD  59 

constituted  men  whose  duty  it  was  to  fight;  just 
as  we  had  our  well  organised  NaUonal  Church,  also 
composed  of  peculiarly  constituted  men,  whose 
duly  It  was  to  preach.  He  regarded  himself  as 
remote  from  one  as  from  the  other. 

Oliver,  who  had  made  a  sort  of  peace  with  Doggie 
and  remained  at  the  Deanery,  very  qiucUy  ^ew 


One  day,  walking  with  Pegjry  and  Marmaduke  in 
the  garden,  he  said:  "I  wisfi  I  could  get  hold  of 
that  confounded  fellow,  Chipmunk!" 

Partlv   through  deference  to  the  good   Dean's 
dehcately  hinted  distaste  for  that  upsetter  of  de- 
corous households,  Mid  partly  to  allow  his  follower 
to  attend  to  his  own  domestic  affairs,  he  had  left 
Chipmunk  m  London.    Fifteen  years  ago  Chipmunk 
had  parted  from  a  wife  somewhere  in  the  neigWur- 
hoorfof  the  East  India  Docks.    Both  being  ilfiterate, 
neither  had  since  communicated  with  the  other. 
As  he  had  left  her  earning  good  money  in  a  factory, 
his  hfteen  years  separation  had  been  relieved  from 
anxiety  as  to  her  material  welfare.    A  prudent. 
aJthough  a  beer-lovmg  man,  he  had  amassed  con- 
siderable savmgs,  and  it  was  the  dual  motive  of 
shanng  these  with  his  wife  and  of  protecting  his 
patoon  from  the  ever-lurking  perils  of  London,  that 
had  brought  him  across  the  seas.    When  Oliver  had 
set  hun  free  m  town,  he  was  going  in  quest  of  his 
wite.    But  as  he  had  forgotten  the  name  of  the 
stree.  near  the  East  India  Docks  where  his  wife 
lived,  and  the  name  of  the  factory  in  which  she 
worked,  the  successful  issue  of  the  quest,  in  Oliver's 
opinion,  seemed  problematical.    The  simple  Chip- 
munk,  however,   was  quite  sanguine.    He  would 
run  mto  her  all  nght.    As  soon  as  he  had  found  her 
he  would  let  the  Captak  know.     Up  to  the  present 
he  had  not  conununicated  with  the  Captain.    He 
could  give  the  Captain  no  definite  address,  so  the 


60 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


m 


SB^^'  "you're  anxious  now 
♦  till  the 


munlf^«J^J^**  °°*  communicate  with  him.    Chin- 
munk  had  disappeared  into  the  unknown.  ^ 

askedPeg^!^*"  "^^^^^  of  taking  care  of  himself?" 

i,»'lk™  ?°*  ^  *'"®'"  replied  Oliver.  "Besides 
tirT^r-T  ''"-kidofrespoi^lefoS 
T^..M  ^*'°**  ^^^  P°™^8  of  his  money.    h'^M 

1  suppose,"  said  Doggie,  "vou'rt 
to  eet  bacl  to  the  South  IS?  "  "^ 

w^fc^"*^-    "No.somiy,n 

th^jryou"?"^'*  '^  ^  ^y  ^'^^t  ^J-g^^  0"t 
evSw^Dofr    ;:>'^  the  fumiiest  duck  that 

dZJ."*  *'°^  ''^  °^^'"  "^''^d  the  bewildered 

heW^C  fi^h?-'*'^^'  ^°^'  "'^«t  he  means 
"  wiv!    !^u  ^°fSSie.    Then  after  a  pause  he  added 

to  Durdlebury    where  he  reported  hiXlf  toWs 
master  as  jf  nothing  out  of  the  way  hadZppen^ 

And  you're  not  going  on  any  blethering  idiot 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


61 


wUd  goose  chases  after  wives  and  such  like  truck 
again,  are  you?" 

"No,  Cajj'en,"  said  Chipmunk. 
This  was  in  the  stable-yard,  after  Chipmunk  had 
shaken  some  of  the  dust  out  of  his  hair  and  clothes 
and  had  eaten  and  drunk  voraciously.  He  was  now  ' 
sittmg  on  an  upturned  bucket  and  smoking  his  clay 
pipe  with  an  au-  of  solid  content.  Oliver,  lean  and 
supple,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  looked  humorously 
down  upon  him. 

"And  you've  got  to  stick  to  me  for  the  future, 
uke  a  roseate  leech." 
"Yes,  Cap'en." 
"You're  going  to  ride  a  horse." 

A  wot?    roared  Chipmunk. 
'|A  thing  on  four  legs  that  kicks  like  hell." 
Wotever  for?    I  am't  never  ridden  no  'osses." 
loure  gomg  to  learn,  you  unmilitary-lookinir 
Mldfei^*^"    scab-    You've    got    to   be    a    ruddy 

"Gorblimel"  said  Chipmunk.  "That's  the  first 
I  eard  of  it  A  oss  soldier?  You're  not  kiddin' 
are  you,  Cap'en?  ' 

"Certainly  not." 

"Gorblime!  Who  would  ha' thought  it?"  Then 
he  fpat  lustily  and  sucked  at  his  pipe. 

..^°"'P  nothmg  to  say  against  it,  have  you?" 

^  No,  Cap'en. 

"All  right.  And  look  here,  when  we're  in  the 
a™yjou  must  chuck  calling  me  'Cap'en.'" 

What  shall   I   have   to  call  yer?    Gineral?" 
tJupmunk  asked  simply. 

•'Mate,  Bill,  Joe  —  any  old  name." 
Ker-ist!"  said  Chipmunk. 

''Do  you  know  why  we're  going  to  enlist?" 
Can  t  say  as  'ow  I  does,  Cap'en." 

•\ou  chuckle-headed  swabl  don't  you  know 
we  re  at  war? 


■'r*ti 


62 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


'-41 

m 


"Dutchmen." 

Wac^^ed  to  enter  into  the  itl'T.! 
Ca^Sp^°"  '^^'^  *^**  Dutchman  at  Samoa. 
trucSt'S™*^"''-    He '^e'^bered  the  hulking, 

wr  ^=-srint''^"i-te  £- 

mnmbered   t£e   amcmt   of  ac^mpi^ed   lyW 
sd^ooner  *^'  '*''  ^'^  ^^^  «^«y  ^th  the 

hmited  and  timewom  vocSy  E  £     ifc 
^«  J?^  ""1?^  "1''^'='^  •*  flashed  on  cEu3k^ 

do^^thS^r^'ctSfj--^  ^^^^'  "-»'«* 

tereelr^H^ch'l^^Pl^'"  ^P"<^  the  chauffeur 
Simk     *^  "•  *^«  ^^"e'^l  di8apprx)valTf 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


63 


dunno  ovr  to  ride  a  "oss.  I'm  a  sailoiman,  I  am. 
and  sailormen  don't  shave  their  faces  and  ride 
osses.  That's  why  I  arsked  yer  what  yer  thought 
ofthis  erewar." 

The  chwjffeur  struggled  into  his  jeans  and  adjusted 
tnem  before  replying. 

"If  you're  a  sailor,  the  place  for  you  is  the  navy  " 
he  remarked  in  a  supenor, manner.  "As  for  the 
cavahy,  the  Cap'en,  as  youlcall  him,  ought  to  have 
more  sense — "  ' 

Chipmunk  rose  and  swung  his  long  arms  threaten- 
uifjy. 

, ,.  J^H  '^^'  yo"D8  feUer,  do  you  want  to  have  your 
bhnkm  ead  knocked  orf  ?  Where  the  Cap'en  goes, 
I  ^,  Mid  don't  you  make  any  mistake  tJbout  iti'' 

J  *  **^  anything,"  the  chauffeur  expostu- 

.  j^*"  *^°°'*  ^^  ^*-  ^"^  ^®«P  your  bliniin' 
ead  shut  and  mind  your  own  business." 

And,  scowling  fiercely  and  thrusting  his  empty 
pipe  into  his  trousers  pocket,  Chipmunk  rolled  away 

A  few  hours  later  Oliver,  entering  his  room  to 
dress  for  dinner,  found  him  standing  in  the  light  of 
the  wmdow  laboriously  fitting  studs  into  a  shirt. 
The  devoted  fellow  having  gone  to  report  to  his 
master,  had  found  Burford  engaged  in  his  accus- 
tomed task  of  laying  out  his  master's  evening 
clothes -Ohver  during  his  stay  in  London  had 
provided  hunself  with  these  necessaries.  A  jealous 
snarl  had  sent  Burford  flying.  So  intent  was  he 
on  his  work,  that  he  did  not  hear  Oliver  entjr. 
Ohver  stood  and  watched  him.  Chipmunk  was 
swearing  wholesomely  under  his  breath.  Oliver 
saw  him  take  up  the  tail  of  the  shirt,  spit  on  it  and 
begin  to  rub  something. 

"Ker-istl"  said  Chipmunk. 

"What  in  the  thundering  blazes  are  you  doinir 
there?    cried  Oliver. 


64 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Chipmunk  turned. 

"OH,  my  God  1"  said  Oliver. 

n„Fil°  ^^  ^  *"?  ^."^V'  ^'^  ^«"8*>ed  and  laughed, 
Md  the  more  he  looked  at  Chipmunk  the  more  he 
T^  fj:.  ^'l  Chipmunk  stood  stohd,  holding 
Uie  shirt  of  the  awful,  wet,  thumb-marked  front. 
But  It  was  not  at  the  shut  that  OUver  laughed 

that?^  ^^  '^^^    '"^^'^  you  bom  like 

For  Chipmunk,  having  gone  to  the  barber's  was 
clean-shaven,  and  revealed  himself  as  one  of  the 
™oft  comically  ugly  of  the  sous  of  men. 

Never  mmd,'  said  OUver,  after  a  while,  "you've 
made  the  sacrifice  for  your  country." 
[|And  wot  if  I  get  the  face-ache?" 
Id  get  something  that  looked  hke  a  face  be- 
fore  I'd  talk  of  it,"  gr&med  Oliver. 

At  the  fanulv  dinner-table.  Doggie  being  present, 

he  announced  his  mtentions.    It  was  the  duty  of 

every  able-bodied  man  to  fight  for  the  Empire.    Had 

not  half  a  milhon  just  been  called  for?    'We  should 

want  a  joUy  sight  more  than  that  before  we  got 

through  with  It    Aiiyway  he  was  off  to-moir^w. 

lo-morrow?    echoed  the  Dean. 

Burford,  who  was  handing  him  potatoes,  arched 

..T^/*'-^.^"^  alarm.    He  was  fon5  of  OUver. 

With  Chipmunk." 
Burford  uttered  an  unheard  sigh  of  reUef 
Weregoing  to  enUst  in  King  Edward's  Horse. 
They  re  our  knd.  Overseas  men.  Lots  of 'em  what 
you  dear  good  people  would  caU  bad  eggs.  There 
you  make  the  mistake.  Perhaps  they  mayn't  ilje 
fresh  enough  raw  for  a  dainty  palate  —  but  for  cook- 
ing, good  hard  cooking,  by  Gosh  I  nothmg  can  touch 

.. A'^°!?v.*^  °^  enUsting,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Conover. 
ij>oes  that  mean  as  a  pnvate  soldier?  " 
"Yes  —  a  trooper.    Why  not?" 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


65 


"You're  a  gentleman,  dear.    And  gentlemen  in 
the  Anny  are  ofiBcere." 
.   ''Not  now,  my  dear  Sophia,"  said  the  Dean. 

Gentlemen  are  crowding  mto  the  ranks.  They 
are  setting  a  noble  example." 

They  argued  it  out  in  their  gentle,  old-fashioned 
way.  The  Dean  quoted  examples  of  sons  of  Family 
who  had  served  as  privates  in  the  South  African  war. 

"And  that  to  this,"  said  he,  "is  but  an  eddy  to  a 
maelstrom." 

"Come  and  join  us,  James  Marmaduke,"  said 
OUver  across  the  table.  "Chipmunk  and  me. 
Three  'sworn  brothers  to  France. 

Doggie  smiled  easily.  "I'm  afraid  I  can't  imder- 
take  to  swear  a  fraternal  a£fection  for  Chipmunk. 
He  and  I  would  have  neither  habits  nor  ideals  in 
common." 

OUver  turned  to  Peggy.  "I  wish,"  said  he,  with 
rare  restraint,  "he  wouldn't  talk  like  a  book  on 
dMortment." 

'Marmaduke  talks  the  language  of  civilisation," 
laughed  Peggy.    "He's  not  a  savage  Uke  you." 

'  Don't  you  jolly  well  wish  he  wasl"  said  Oliver. 

Peggy  flushed.    " ^^  ),  I  don'tl "  she  declared. 

The  Dean  being  ch  ed  away  on  business  unmedi- 
ately  after  dinner,  the  young  men  were  left  alone 
in  the  dining-room  when  the  ladies  had  departed. 
Oliver  poured  himself  out  a  glass  of  port  and  filled 
his  pipe  —  an  inelegant  proceeding  of  which  Doggie 
disapproved.  A  pipe  alone  was  barbaric,  a  pipe 
with  old  port  was  criminal.  He  held  his  peace, 
however. 

^_  "James  Marmaduke,"  said  Oliver,  after  a  while, 
"what  are  you  going  to  do?"  Much  as  Marma- 
duke disliked  the  name  of  "Doggie,"  he  wmced 
under  the  irony  of  the  new  appellation. 

"  I  don't  see  that  I'm  called  upon  to  do  anything," 
he  replied. 


66 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


m 


Oliver  smoked  and  sipped  his  port.  "I  don't 
WMit  to  hurt  your  feelings  any  more,''^said  he  gravely, 
though  sometimes  I'd  like  to  scrag  you—  I  sup- 
pose because  you're  so  different  from  me.  It  was 
so  when  we  were  childem  together.  Now  I've 
CTown  very  fond  of  Peggy.  Put  on  the  right  track, 
she  might  turn  mto  a  very  fine  woman." 

"I  don't  think  we  need  discuss  Peggy,  Oliver  " 
said   Marmaduke. 

"I  do.  She  is  sticking  to  you  very  loyally." 
Ohver  was  a  bit  of  an  ideahst.  "The  time  may 
come  when  she'll  be  up  the  devU's  own  tree.  She'U 
develop  a  patriotic  conscience.  If  she  sticks  to 
you  while  you  do  nothing,  she'U  be  miserable. 
If  she  chucks  you,  as  she  probably  wiU,  she'U  be  no 
happier.  It  s  all  up  to  you,  James  Doggie  Mar- 
maduke, old  son.  You'll  have  to  gird  up  your 
loms  and  take  sword  and  buckler  and  march  away 
hke  the  rest.  I  don't  want  Peggy  to  be  unhappy. 
I  WMt  her  to  marry  a  man.  lliat's  why  I  pVo- 
posed  to  take  you  out  with  me  to  Huaheine  and  try 
to  make  you  one.  But  that's  over.  Now  here's 
the  real  chance.  Better  take  it  sooner  than  later, 
lou  11  have  to  be  a  soldier.  Doggie." 

His  pipe  not  drawing,  he  was  preparing  to  dig 
It  with  the  pomt  of  a  dessert-kmfe  when  Doerie 
mterposed  hurriedly.  ^* 

"For  goodness'  sake,  don't  do  thati    It  makes 
cold  shivers  run  down  my  backl " 
_   Oliver  looked  at  him  oddly,  put  the  extinct  pipe 
m  his  dinner-jacket  pocket  and  rose. 

"A  flaw  in  the  dainty  and  divine  ordering  of 
things  makes  you  shiver  now,  old  Doggie.  What 
wtU  you  do  when  you  see  a  feUow  digging  out  an- 
other feUow  s  mtestines  with  the  point  of  a  bayonet? 
A  bigger  flaw  there  somehow  I " 

"Don't  talk  like  that  — you  make  me  sick," 
said  Doggie. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DURING   the   next   few  months  there  hap- 
pened terrible  and  marvellous  things  which 
are  all  set  down  m  the  myriad  chronicles 
of  the  tune;   which  shook  the  world  and  brought 
the  untoown  phenomenon  of  change  mto  the  Close 
of  Di^dlebury.    Folks  of  strange  habit  and  speech 
watted  It  m.  and  gazmg  at  the  Gothic  splendour 
of  the  place,  saw  through  the  mist  of  autumn  and 
the  mist  of  tears  not  Durdlebury  but  Louvam 
More  than  one  of  those  grey  houses  flanking  the 
Cathedral  and  shanng  with  it  the  contmuity  of 
Its  venerable  hfe,  was  a  house  of  moummg:    not 
tor  loss  m  the  mevitable  and  not  iinkiidly  way  of 
human  destmy  as  understood  and  accepted  with 
long  disciphned  resignation  —  but  for  loss  sudden, 
awful  devastating;  Tor  the  gallant  lad  who  had  left 
It  but  a  few  weeks  before,  with  a  smile  on  his  lips 
and  a  new  and  dancmg  Ught  of  manhood  m  hS 
^es,   now  with  those  eyes  unclosed  and  glazed 
stanng  at  the  pitfless  Flanders  sky.    Not  one  of 
Uiose  houses  but  was  Unked  with  a  battlefield. 
Bwond  the  memory  of  man  the  reader  of  the  Litany 
rxu    o°^  *°®  accustomed  invocation  on  behalf 
^the  Soverei^  and  the  Royal  Family,  the  Bishops 
Priests  and  Deacons,   the  Lords  oif^  the  Council 
and  aU  prisoners  and  captives,  and  the  congrega- 
tion had  lumped  them  all  together  m  their  reswnses 
with  an  undifferentiating   convention  of  fervour. 
What  had  prisoners  and  captives,  anv  more  than 
the  l^rds  of  the  Council,  to  do  witfi  theu-  lives, 
theu-  hearts,  their  personal  emotions?    But  now  — 
67 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


6S 

Durdlebsffy  men  were  known  to  be  prisoners  in 
German  hands,  and  after  "aU  prisoners  and  captives" 
there  was  a  long  and  pregnant  sUence,  in  which  was 
leu  the  reverberaUon  of  war  against  pier  and  vaulted 
arch  and  gromed  roof  of  the  cathedral,  which  was 
broken  too,  now  and  then,  by  the  stifled  sob  of  a 
woman,  before  the  choir  came  in  with  the  response 
80  new  and  significant  in  its  appeal  — "We  be- 
seech  thee  to  hear  us,  0  Lord  I" 

And  in  every  home  the  knitting-needles  of  women 
dicked  as  they  did  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land.  And  the  young  men  left 
shop  and  trade  and  counting  house.  And  younn 
parsons  fretted  and  some  obtamed  the  Bishop's 
permission  to  become  Aimy  chaplains,  and  others, 
snapping  their  fingers  (figuratively)  under  the 
Bi^ops  nose,  threw  their  cassocks  to  the  netUea 
and  put  on  the  fuU  (though  in  modem  times  not 
very  splendiferous)  panoply  of  war.  And  in  course 
of  tune  the  Bneade  of  Artillery  roUed  away  and 
new  troops  toot  their  place:  and  Marmaduke 
Trevor  Esquire,  of  Denby  HaU,  was  called  upon 
to  billet  a  couple  of  officers  and  twenty  men. 

Doggie  was  both  patriotic  and  polite.  Having 
E  fra^ent  of  the  British  Army  in  his  house,  hi 
did  his  best  to  make  them  comfortable.  By  Jan- 
uaiy  he  had  no  doubt  that  the  Empire  was  in  peril 
that  It  was  every  man's  duty  to  do  his  bit.  He 
welcomed  the  newcomers  witib  open  arms,  havimr 
unconsciously  abandoned  his  attitude  of  sup«> 
onty  over  mere  brawn.  Doggie  saw  the  necessity 
of  brawn.  The  more  the  better.  It  was  every 
patnotic  Enghshman  s  duty  to  encourage  brawn. 
iLu-  ^^n,  '^.^  ^^'^  allowed  him,  he  would  have 
ted  his  biUeted  men  every  two  hours  on  prime  beef- 
steaks and  Burgundy.  He  threw  himself  heart  and 
soul  mto  the  reorganisation  of  his  household, 
oac^rs  and  men  found  thernselvcs  in  clover.    The 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


69 


^cers  had  champagne  every  nkht  for  dinner. 
They  thought  Doggie  a  capital  Mow. 

.•«»  ^  **?^  *'^"P''  *^*^  ''«"'<'  «ay-  "you're  spoil- 

grateful.  We  joUy  weU  are.  But  we're  supposed 
to  rough  It -to  lead  the  simple  life-^Jrhs^ 
You  re  domg  us  too  well." 

"Imp<MsibleI"  Dogpe  would  reply,  filling  up 
the  speakers  gla^.  ^Don't  I  know  what  we  owe 
to  you  fellows?  In  what  other  way  can  a  helpless, 
dehcate  crock  hke  myself  show  his  gratitude  and 
"*  ?^e  sort  of  httle  way  serve  his  country?" 

When  the  sympathetic  and  wine-filled  euest 
would  ask  what  was  the  nature  of  his  malady,  he 
would  tap  his  chest  vaguely  and  reply  • 

CoMtitutional.    I've   never   been   able   to   do 
tt^^hke  other  fellows.    The  least  thing  bowls 

''Damn  hard  lines  —  especially  just  now." 

u'  i?™*,  'A**"    ^ogfie   would   answer.  And 

once  he  found  himself  adding,  "I'm  fed  up  with 

domg  nothing.  r  "  •" 

Here  canbe  noted  a  distmct  stage  in  Dogirie's 
development.  He  realised  the  brutaUty  of  fact. 
When  great  German  guns  were  yawning  open- 
mouthed  at  you,  It  was  no  use  saying  "Take  the 
JQMty,  homd  things  away.  I  don't  like  them." 
Ihey  wouldnt  go  unless  you  took  other  big  guns 
md  fared  at  them.  And  more  guns  were  required 
than  could  be  manned  by  the  peculiarly  constituted 
fellows  who  made  up  the  artiUery  of  the  original 
Briti^  Army.  New  feUows  not  at  aU  warlike, 
peacetiil  citizens  who  had  never  killed  a  cat  in  anger 
were  being  driven  by  patriotism  and  by  conscience 
to  man  them.  Against  Blood  and  Iron  now  su- 
preme, the  superior,  aesthetic,  and  artistic  being 
was  of  no  avail.  You  might  lament  the  fall  m 
relative  values  of  coUections  of  wall-papers  and  little 


70 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


|i 


Ml 


ftr&STil  t  T  ^'^'  *""»  rou  could  not 
of  i,  iL^ll  "  *>,M.K°??  <*o^n  with  Bomething 

"Wm»  and  to  «,,«ire  p,nJ,„Uy  ,C  ffcS" 

r^Kt.-fp^--^^££^^=H 

grieved  against  PiiSde'^^rfo^  £'Jin7J£y,S?: 
Mde  this  tremendous  national  lS  of  ^o^?h" 
w«,  "''''*  .'P'^tioned  his  physiM^Mcit^""*!; 
was  as  real  a  fact  as  the  (5ennan  inuuT  Ha  w JJ 
about  pitying  himself  and  seeWpfT"  "'*°* 
f  JJ^rf  ?2.  u  P"^^-    The  reg&ent  moved  awav 

fey  ff*"l7e'fS?*'  DoggiT^as  iWonT^ 

',"*"•    "8  felt  sohtary  and  rMtlAm     v««™ 

came  from  Oliver  that  h^ld  beeTo^red^i 

C?,ii?;   Then  Doggie  remembered  a  talk  he  liad 
1  shouldnt  have  the  nerve,"  he  had  replM^ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  71 

tii^Bt^lIl^l?  ?"  f  wrong -and  I  ahouldn't  have 
the  strength  to  change  tyres  and  thinm."  u 

befCT^."        ""*^'^'  ***  *««'=*'  y«»  enough 

lei^n«^«^/^'    {?"o^'^    Briggins's    advice,    took 
lessons  and,  to  his  amazement,  found  that  hn^5 

the  two^water,  he  sweUed  with  pride 

^^1  m  80  glad  to  see  you  can  do  something! "  she 

Although  she  was  kind  and  as  mildhr  affectionats 
as  ever,  he  had  noticed  of  late  a  curiSus^,^"  S 
her  manner  Convereation  did  nT  30^^!^ 
ThCTe  seemed  to  be  something  at  the  bark  ThL 

T^  f^l.^^^  «*«  °f  KacUon  from  whicr 
^•ft WK^'  '^^,rr^  hereelf  with  an  Xrt  ' 

.  « 8  the  war,"  she  would  declare.  "It's  nff«-t 
mgeverybodythatway."  "s  aflect- 

fr.S*'*"^^  ^**«^f  %«°  *o  ^"se  that  she  sooke 
truly  Mof=  people  of  his  acquaintance  wWh« 
was  by,  seemed  to  be  thus  XZl     The  lack  of 

in  1^  i^^  ^.  I  "  ^^°^^  ^°«^^  <lo^-  He  sat 
m  tm  i>ory  and  peacock  room  and  nearly  wept 


»  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

She  was  rather  white  alwut  the  lips  as  she  UsS 

of  ti!e"S.rTS^hapt^„r'    '^'  '  ^'^^  --^ 
"It  8  brutal  and  unjust." 
"T  ?u  '*\^™taJ."  she  admitted,  coldly. 

with  me/te  S  "'  '"^  ™^'  """'''  '^^^ 
^\^t^  w^  J^Sotou*  et^Tl 

meiid^**"^  *''^*^  ^""^  "^^^  y°"  "e^"."  he  sta-.- 

cfln'I  t?""'!  ''"'^^  ^°"«'**  't  ^as  obvious.  You 
can  t  be  such  an  innocent  babe  as  to  supDose  Deonl« 
don't  talk  about  you.  Thev  don't  S^t^^^ 
because  they  don't  Uke  to  L  Zll  ^e?^  sISJ 
jrou  wh,te  feaUier*  i^tead.  But^?;  tai^to  m^ 
Why  isn't  Mannaduke  in  khaki?^  ^v  is^^t' 
Dogpe  fighting?'  'I  wonder  how  you  S^  Xw 
him  to  slack  about  like  thati'  -  I'vl  hadTDret^v 
rou«h  toe  fighting  your  batUes.  I  cTtelf  yj? 

rljch'rVouT?'"""'    '--'sy-Pathy5Ss"t 
do  see  now  the  mipleasant  position  ^ouVebSi  in 
col'd^S''  '^^'^"  "^^  ^«*'  ^'^^«  «t  him  with 

"m  an  ^ibihy  "''*  ®*-    '  ^«  "^  constitution. 

to"driv"  te^  ^°rh^^  ""^^5?  ""^"  YOU  learned 
l«d?t  YV.n  5f  •  ^*"?  ^'"^  <l's«>vered  that  you 
naont.    Xou  fancy  you've  a  weak  heart.    Perhaps 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  75 

tf  you  learned  to  walk  thirty  miles  a  day,  you  would 
STofl'^*"'  ^*  *''^"-    And  io  with  Se 

"This  is  very  painful,"  he  said,  going  to  the 
wmdow  and  stanng  out  "Very  ^d.  You 
are  of  the  same  opimon  as  the  young  women  who 
sent  me  that  abominable  thing." 

She  had  been  on  the  strain  for  a  long  whfle  and 
.0  ,'ethmg  inside  her  had  snapped.    It  lUs  woe- 

up^  "dt^reSLtir-  ^°'^^^'"' '-' «-« 

,  girl  wanu  to  feel  some  pride  in  the  man 
f     gomg  to  marry.    It's  horrible  to  have  to  be 

sur J  she  8  teUing  the  truth  in  hin  defence." 

He  swung  round  horrified.    "Do  you  think  I'm 
r!.  uning  so  as  to  get  out  of  serving  in  the  armyi- 
-~.     ii>i.''°'^'°'^y-    Unconsciously  I   thiA  you 
are.    What  does  your  doctor  say?" 

Dogpe  was  taken  aback.  He  had  no  doctor. 
Snif  not  considted  one  for  years,  havmg  no 
cause  for  medicd  advice.  The  old  family  phyScian 
^1«»  had  attended  his  mother  in  her  la?™^ 

^n^  2  /'^"I^  ^'■^«°7  P«^<*er8  for  him  as  a 
chUd,  had  retired  from  Durdlebury  long  ago.  TWe 
WM  only  one  person  living  famfliar  wili  his  con- 
»^!.  T;.f°**  ^^^  was  himself.  He  made  coX 
Suture.         *'^"«"'8  fact.    Peggy  made  a  htUe 

"That  provM  it.  I  don't  believe  you  have  anv- 
t^  wrong  with  you.  The  nerves  Business  made 
ll^In\  V"^i''"^^''  *^^?-  It's  horrid! 
and  fw'all/'     '*"**"*  ^  ««*  t*»™"«h  ^ith  it  onc^ 

Some  men  would  have  taken  deep  offence  and. 
comigmng  P^gy  ^  the  devil,  have  walked  out  of 

So„.r"°f  .? "V  ^''^ef '    *    conscientious,    even 
though  a  futile  human  being,  was  gnawed  for  the 


74 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


fcst  time  by  the  suspicion  that  Peirify  miflht  nn«. 

pLir  '    ^'^r'*®'    whatever  you  think  proper  " 
^J%^  ^^  ^"^^  ^  ^^  the  malleable  i^n^jo 

j^re^on  of  redhot  martial  ardour  on  the  part  of 

"I'lfe"  *^^?'  '^^  *•»«  fii'st  smile  of  the  day 

iwgam.  irtt  Dr.  Murdock  to  overhaul  von 
thoroughly  with  a  view  to  the  army  H  he  pa^ 
you.  take  a  commission.    Dad  says  he  ca^  S 

K^^C0ffi^^f^  ''i?  «-d  GenerTGaS? 
rn    .•  1  .    "™**;    "  1*®  doesn't,  and  you're  unfit 
I U  stick  to  you  through  thick  ai^d  tK  Ld  Se 
ti^you^  women  of  Durdlebury  wiR^d  Zt 

She  put  out  her  hand.    Doggie  took  it. 

Very  well  "  said  he,  "I  agfle." 
°?e  laughed  and  ran  to  the  doo* 
^  mere  are  you  goiug?" 

anaSoSL'S"'*''"-*"'^  "P  ^'-  Murdoch  for 
wh^^iSi^^d-lSaT^SS-^-fa 


g 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  75 

Doom,    He  went  on  to  prescribe  a  course  of  uhvsi- 

Tt  ^f  Jj-b'eaiing  and  contortional  p^onnan^ 
m  tus  bath-room,  if  possible  a  skilf X ^^^ 
^eer  m  a  gymnasium  -  but  his  words  ffuonlhe 
D^l'sSlT'  ""^^^'^^  whenhe  h^d  ^dS! 

outfofrnf^'*'  ^'^''  ^°"'"  ^^«  to  write  all  that 
"With  pleMure,"  smiled  the  Doctor,  and  crinneH 

S  hLfe.^"ih,^^.  "^^  Dogrie'iiS'hJ 
saw  Heartily       Ahl    I U  soon  set  t£at  right  for 
you.    IJl    get    you    something  — an    india^iibhpp 
cont    vc  ice  to  practise  with  fof  half  an  W  ^a^ 
n^°«?  '^rT'P  « '^^"d  Uke  a  goriUa's."  ^* 

Dr.  Murdoch  grinned  his  way,  in  his  little  car 
*°,^8  °e^t  patient.    Here  was  this  young Xw 

^nu^S'tlnl^Zt  ^^n^arly^fe 

SrroSaf  Lte'&^a  ^^^^ ^ 
But  Doggie  crept  out  of  bed  and  put  on  a  violet 
dressmg-gowTu  that  clashed  horribly  with  4^S 
pyjamas  and  wandered  hke  a  man  in  a  nMtiS^ 
to  his  breakfast.  But  he  could  not  m  H^ 
swaUowed  a  cap  of  coffee  and  sought  rrfL^ 
fe  «"^«>«m-  He  was  frighten^.  KoK 
faghtened,  caurfit  in  a  net  from  which  there  wS 
no  escape,  not  Sie  tiniest  br  jak  of  a  mesh.  He  h^ 
«»yen  his  word -and  in  justice  to  Doerie  he  rt 
^d  that  he  held  his  word'sac^-heX^  SveS 

n^^A  u  '^^^  ^^°  passed— more  thii  pa?  ed. 
hI  woS  >^«,*«>i°:  He  would  have  t«^figM 
tie  would  have  to  hve  in  a  muddy  trench  sleen  in 

St  of  >.r'""\?^"«^  through  3.  rV^ 
midst  of  xalhng  shells  and  other  instruments  rf 


76 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


nrSL^  I  ''?'^**  ^  ^  °®««''  ^ith  aD  kinds 
of  strange  and  vulgar  men  under  him,  men  like 
Chi^u^k  for  instance,  whom  he  would  nev^r 
understand.  He  was  ahnost  physicaUy  sick  wiS 
apprehenjHon.    He    realised    t£at    he  \TZ^ 

taUy  afrmd  of  Bnggms,  his  late  chauffeur.  He 
had  heard  that  men  at  the  front  lived  on  some 
sohd  horror  called  bully-beef  dug  out  of  tim  ^ 
some  bmud  horror  called  cocoa  also  drunk  out  of 
tins;    aiat  men  kept  on  their  clothes,  even  their 

«?^lf'fhLT^  ^}  *  ,*™^:  \^«*  'at«  ra°  over  them 
^^^^^•*"^  ^  ^^\  *^*  ^"^^  hitherto  asso- 
ciated m  lis  mmd  with  the  most  revolting  type  of 
tramp,  out  there  made  no  distinction  d^  p^i^ns. 
I^A^*^^^t  ^^  «>m™on  lot  of  the  lowest  Yommy 
and  the  finest  gentleman.  ' 

Aiid  then  the  iighting.  The  noise  of  the  horrid 
C„  Iv®  di^stmg  sights  of  men  shattered  to 
bloody  bits,    fhe  horrible  stench.    The  terror  of 

nh!^  r^'  t'^A"^  **^  «^«y  «°d  being  ^ 
^ject  of  revolt  and  hoiTor  to  aU  Beholders  for  the 
rest  of  hfe.  Death.  Feverishly  he  ruffled  bis 
comely  hair.  Death  He  was  sVprised  S  S 
contemplation  of  it  did  not  freeze  tie  blood  in  Ws 
vems.  Yes.  He  put  it  clearly  before  him.  He 
had  given  his  wor<f  to  Peggy  that  he  would  go  and 
e^  himself  to  Death.  Death.  What  ®^d  h 
mean?  He  had  been  brought  up  in  orthodox 
Oiurch  of  England  ChristiamV.  fe  flaccid  S 
had  never  questioned  the  truth  of  its  dogmas.  He 
behevai.  ma  general  sort  of  way,  that  gSod  people 
went  to  Heaven  and  bad  people  went  to^HeU 
as  conscience  was  clear.    H^  bad  never  done  any 

i^  ^  Z^}^^-  r^  ^"  ^5  ^^  ''°«^' ''«  had  broken 
none  of  the  Ten  Commandments.    In  a  technical 

h^M    "^^  "  miserable  smner,  and  so  proclaimed 
himself  once  a  week.    But  though,   perhaps,   he 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  77 

had  done  nothing  in  his  life  to  merit  eternal  bliss 
in  Pwadise,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  com- 
mitted no  action  which  would  justify  a  kindly  and 
just  Creator  m  consiming  him  to  ihe  eternal  flames 
01  Hell.  Sonaehow  the  thought  of  Death  did  not 
woriy  hun.  It  faded  from  ha  mind,  being  far  less 
terrible  than  hfe  under  prospective  conditions. 
Discomfort,  hunger,  thirst,  cold,  fatigue,  pafn,  above 
all  the  terror  of  his  fellows  —  these  werVthe  soul- 
rackmg  anticipations  of  this  new  life  into  which  it 
was  a  matter  of  honour  for  iJm  to  plunge.  And 
to  an  essential  gentleman  like  Doggie  amstter  of 
honour  was  a  matter  of  hfe.  And  so,  dressed  in 
tus  pmk  pyjamas  and  violet  dressLng-gown,  amid 
the  peacock  blue  and  ivory  hangings  of  his  boudoir 
room,  and  stared  at  by  the  countless  unsympathe- 
tic eyes  of  his  httle  china  dogs.  Doggie  Trevor 
passed  through  his  first  Gethsemane. 

His  decision  was  greeted  with  joy  at  the  Deanery. 
Feggy  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  gave 
hmi  the  very  first  real  kiss  he  had  ever  received. 
It  revived  him  considerably.  His  Aunt  Sophia  also 
embraced  him.  The  Dean  shook  him  wwmly  by 
the  hand,  and  talked  eloquent  patriotism.  Dojtjrie 
akfady  felt  a  hero.  He  left  the  house  m  a  gfow 
but  the  dnve  home  in  the  two-seater  was  cold, 
and  the  pitch  dark  night  presaged  other  nights  of 
mercilessness  m  the  future;  and  when  Doggie  sat 
alone  by  Ins  fire,  sipping  the  hot  milk  which  Peddle 
presented  hun  on  a  silver  tray,  the  doubts  and  fears 
01  the  mommg  racked  him  again.  An  ignoble 
possibility  occurred  to  him.  IVlurdoch  might  be 
wrong.  Murdoch  might  be  prejudiced  by  local 
go^ip.  Would  It  not  be  better  to  go  up  to  London 
and  obtain  the  opinion  of  a  first-class  man  to  whom 
he  was  unknown?  There  was  also  another  altema- 
Uve.    I'hght.    He  might  go  to  America,  and  do 


78 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


nothiM.    To  the  South  of  France  nnH  J.«i„  • 

m  a  mirror  showed  him  hw  sleXhf^  t      i  j'™^ 
an  upstandin*  wig     ]ta  «  kin^^  ^       ***"?¥  "^o 

in  his  life  drank  ast^»fc;i?  ana  lor  the  first  tone 
of  the  stimJCt     rI!?"''^  ^'^  «^«  for  the  sake 

he  8tole^^Cba^'°„i;  r,?^"  adventurel  - 
thought  of  hat  a^K,^t  Sl''"n  ^'*^°"* 
alcohol  mark  it  wem  ran  ^^It  ??  traducers  of 
the  letter  in  theb^JZ^V?  ^^  ^'7^  «°d  posted 
entrance  gates  ^^^  ^"''^  ^^^^  beyoMl  his 

Now  and  tl^  ^£^  ^Z  unneccMary  exertion, 
prescribed  wX.&hTT'P^^'^u^  "^  *^8 
was  discoun^by^?Je  daS.nl  ■''•J='"T«°y 


r -^vi.  nrtuiLa,-   out  tne 

was  discounted  bv  thp  .rioi^v.'^"'  "'  """i  '^ompany 

nnw»~  „f  „^._"'  "'^X^"?  superiority  of  her 

•    When  lie  was  aching  with 

along   as    frpah    oo     **-l-°.  . 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  79 

.   "X®'^®,''?*^  a  topping  walk,  old  dear.    Now 
wn  t  It  a  glonous  thing  to  feel  oneself  alive?" 

dead!   *^'"     '^'^^       ^^  ^'^^^  ™"*='^  felt  half 

The  fateful  letter  burdening  Doggie  with  the 
Kuigs  comnussion  arrived  a  few  w^ks  later-    a 

N^w  W 'T?  ^  !i  ?"^«'  battalion^-the 
Wew  Army.  Dates  and  mstructions  were  riven 
The  unpr^  of  the  Royal  Arms  at  the  head  Ke 
^^'-  :^^  '^  grotesque,  perky  lion  and  uidcom 
conveyed  to  Doggie  a  sense  oi^the  grip  of  wme 
ZIS  ^^';  -^^  type-written  w^^  l^CdJ 
mattered.  The  impress  fascinated  him.  There 
Wt^Vw""??  away  from  it.  ThoseZ^  pS 
n    ♦K  w'**  ^  "*  ^^^  *='"tch-    They  headed  a 

Death  Warrant  from  which  there  was  no  apS 

Doggie  put  his  house  in  order,  dismwsed  with 
bounty  tho^  of  his  servants  who  wouWbSoS 

Sftt  ^^  ^t?*  ^^  ^^^^'  husband  and  X 
to  look  after  his  mterests.  On  his  last  night  at 
home  he  went  wistfully  through  the  fZu3ace 
S^  ^^:"^S-^oom  sacred  to  L  motherTmemo^' 
the  dmmg-room  so  solid  in  its  half-century  of^m- 
fort^his  own  peacock  and  ivory,  room  Tint^Ty 
hmself,  so  expressive  of  his  every  taste,  ever^ 
mood,  every  emotion.  Those  str^e,  old-3 
musical  instnmients-he  could  ^y  S™aU 
wiUi  the  l«uch  or  breath  of  a  master  Ld  aXveT 
The  oW  Italian  theorbo.    He  took  it  up     How 

S^u^"Ll^tr'''J°?''^°"^««^t'  He  looked 
around.    All    these  daintmesses    and   prettiness^ 

blties'onZ-  ^'^  "^f*  *«  maSTS 
DMuties  of  hfe  — things  which  asserted  a  ranee  of 
spmtual  truths,  none  the  less  real  and  coSto^ 
because  vice  and  crime  and  ugliness  and  nSs^?^ 
and  war  co-emted  in  ghastly  ffct  Z  oTer  fe^te 
of  the  planet  Earth,    "fiie  sweetness  he^ee^rS 


80 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


was  as  essenUal  to  the  world's  spiritual  life  as  th« 
sweet  etenents  of  foodstuffs  to^its  phys'aTl^ 
To  the  getting  together  of  aU  these  articW  beautv 
he  had  devoted  tfie  years  of  his  youT  ^^Z 

another  pomt  of  view  -  was  he  not  the  guardkn  bv 
inhentance-m  other  words,  by  Divine  ProviK 
-of  this  beautiful  English  home,  the  trusted  of 
p*^  ,^«rt.  of  the  sacred  traditions  of  i^e^f 
EngMi  hfe  that  had  made  England  the^nly  S 
toy   the  only  country,  he  thought,  that  could  mU 

^d  S't^  ""^  °n  «  Comp^nise,  in  CS,rWP 
And  he  was  gomg  to  leave  it  all.    All  tJiaf  it 

whTj  l^f^  ^  *"§^*y  «"d  ^  ofUfe  For 
what?  For  horror  and  lllthiness  and  uglin^ 
for  everything  against  which  his  beautiful  S^k 
and  ivory  room  protested.  Doggie's  lastni^T 
at  Denby  Hall  was  a  troubled  one^  ^^* 

lJXl>  o  §    *,  "°?   ^^M  accompanied  him   to 
M    ff*^*^  ^l^  "^^  ^  at  fiS^tuffy  litUe 
hotd  off  Bond  Street,  while  Doggie  got  Ws  Idt? 
^«|*her.    They  bought  everythinfL  ^erTw^f 
^  shop  that  any  salesmii  a^ured  iSi  wis 
Msential    for    active    service.    Swonfe^  Te^lvlre 
field-glasses,  pocket-knivea  (for  Gargantuan  Ste?' 
compass^,    mcM-tins,    cooking-batteriL    SSl 
bags,  waterproofs,  boots  imiuSierable,  toilet^S 
spnes,    drinling   cups,    thennos   flasks    field  X 
bonery    cases    periscopes,    tinted    glL^Giev^ 
waBteoats    colera  belts,  portable  mSe  S 
^-plugs.  tm-openera  cork-screws.  notebooL.^I 
cils,    lummous    watches,    electric    torches     £^ 
housewives,    patent    seat    walking-sS  -  eve^' 
Amg  that  the  man  of  comSL  bstincti  hJd 
devised  for  the  prosecution  of  the  war 

ITie  amount  of  warlike  equipment  with  which 
Doggie  with  the  aid  of  his  Auiit'sophialnd  Peg^ 
encumbered  the  narrow  little  passag^  of  Stmr^Fs 
Hotel  must  have  weighed  about  a  ton         ""*^''  * 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  81 

hoit  '^»?^^*'^  umfonns,  several  suits,  came 
TI^L,  ■  ^^  devoted  enormous  care  to  their  fit 
Attired  m  one  he  looked  beautiful.  Pe«f«v  dwrL  n 
dinner  at  the  Carlton.  She  and  DogrifKrHe? 
mother  could  get  wme  stuffy  old  rfation  to  spfnd 
the  evening  with  her  at  Sturrock's.  She  wE 
Doggie  all  to  herself,  so  as  to  realist  the  drram^ 
many  disgi^ting  and  humiliating  Cnths.  An"  ^ 
she  swept  through  the  pahn  court  and  up  the  broad 
stairs  and  wounS  through  the  crowded  tables  of^e 
r^taurant  with  the  khakiclad  Doggie  by  her  side 
»»f  ^\^T'^.  '^'^  "P'^t^l-    Here  wL  Lr  LlS; 

o™  *u  "^  *,"?»'  «^«  whispered,  pressing  his 
^  as  they  trekked  to  their  t'able.    *^Don"t*you 

Eufer.'" '''''''  ^^" ''''  ^  ^  y-  -»id  C 

nn^!^^^*^^  T^  ^^^  °^  *^«  1»art  of  champagne. 
Doggie  drank  the  rest.  On  getting  into  b^Te 
wondered  why  this  rniprecelent^  ^antity  of 
wine  had  not  affected  his  sobriety.  Its^oiSv  effect 
had  been  to  stifle  thought.    He  went  to  hid  «r„J 

sS  ^""^l'  ^Z  P^^^'«  PartinrkL\a?£ 
such  as  would  conduce  to  any  young  man's  feUdtr 
The  next  mormng  Aunt  Sophia  and  Peetrv  skw 
^  off  to  his  dep6t,  with  his  ton  of  lugg^^  ^l^ 
leaned  out  of  the  carriage  window  and  exchknffVd 

w^tv.  ,K  5  Then  Be  settled  down  in  his  comer 
Trl  i!-  ^T'"?  ^''*'-  B"^  he  could  not  c^™^ 
trate  his  attenUon  on  the  morning  news  TWs 
strange  costume  in  which  he  warSothed  seen^d 
luA^^T^.'"^'  °°  i«"««^the  natty^dr^ta 
wtuch  he  had  been  proud  to  prink  the  night  before 
but  a  rugh  mare,  N^essus-like  investiture,  siSS 
some  abonunable,  burning  doom.  «g""ymg 

doS^  *'^  ^^P*  *^  ^♦o  «  ^orfd  that  was  upside 


.1^^ 


CHAPTER  VII 

THOSE  were  proud  days  for  Peggy.  She  went 
about  Durcflebury  with  her  S  in  the  ^ 
and  her  step  was  as  martial  as  thoueh  she 

the  other  girls  of  the  town  with  a  defiant  we     U 

A'^^u^'^'^'^ui^^^'  •*«  thoughlX^s^nd" 
of  the  abominable  feather!  In  TkSpaky's  draSei^ 
^tebhs^ent  she  raked  the  pis  attXe  TS 
with  a  searching  glance.    At  the  v-.thedral  service 

mol^^i^f^f  ^  ^^  *  ^'<"«'  «*»«  J»eld  the  anon?: 
mous  exploit  to  be  coward  y  and  brutal     What 

SatTed'  eS  °'  *^^  ^^'^"^^  andTereSS 
What  h»w  tr^'f  y°"°«  men  out  of  the  army? 
What  had  they  known  of  Mannaduke?  As  soon 
as  the  Jlusion  of  his  life  had  been  dispelled  he^d 

f^t^  T?^  ^*^u  "^  «""«"*  «  trearasMybody 
and  though  Doggie  had  kept  to  himself  his  shrfiS 

^tY  i^I?'"'  '•*«  ^«^  ^«t  ^tat  to  thraWS 
hardily  bred  young  man  was  a  gay  adventwe  wm 

W^f  ^u?"*.^  "f  consideraBle  dfficX  Sh^ 
fel/"'  ^If  ^*  ^^^«  so  that  she  could  paradi 
hun  be'or.3  fbe  town,  in  the  event  of  there  S  a 

E^nataSr""  '"'"^  "^  ^"^^^  ^^^' 

Conspicuous   in   the   drawing-room,    framed   in 

S  ?V.»  V.  '^'"^rfess  committees,  was  scarceire^r 
in  the  house,  except  for  hurried  meals.    Most  5 

82 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  83 

the  pleasant  young  clergy  had  gone.  Many  of 
the  girls  had  gone  too;  Dorothy  Bruce  to  be  a 
probationer  in  a  V.  A.  D.  hospital.  If  Durdlebury 
were  not  such  a  rotten,  out^f-the-world  place, 
the  mfinnary  would  be  fuU  of  wounded  soldier^ 
and  she  could  do  her  turn  at  nursing.  As  thinss 
were,  she  could  only  knit  socks  for  Tommies  and  a 
wlk  khaki  tie  for  her  own  boy.  But  when  every- 
body was  doing  then-  bit,  these  occupations  were 
not  enough  to  prevent  her  feeling  a  Bttle  slacker, 
lie  would  have  to  do  the  patriotic  work  for  both  of 
them,  teU  her  all  about  himself,  and  let  her  share 
everything  with  him  in  imagination.  She  also 
expressed  her  affection  for  him  in  shy  and  slangy 

Dogpe  wrote  regularly.  His  letters  were  as 
shy  and  conveyed  less  information.  The  work  was 
nwxl,  the  houre  long,  his  accommodation  Spartan. 
They  were  in  huts  on  Salisbury  Plain.  Sometimes 
He  confessed  himself  too  tired  to  write  more  than 
a  few  hnes.  He  had  a  bad  cold  in  the  head.  He 
was  better.  They  had  inoculated  him  against 
typhoid  and  had  allowed  him  two  or  three  slack 
days.  The  first  time  he  had  unaccountably  fainted- 
but  he  had  seen  some  of  the  men  do  the  same,  and 
the  doctor  had  assured  him  that  it  had  nothing  to 
do  with  cowardice.  He  had  gone  for  a  routemarch 
and  had  returned  a  dusty  lump  of  fatigue.  But 
aftCT  haymg  shaken  the  dust  out  of  his  moustache 
—  Doggie  had  a  playful  turn  of  phrase  now  and 

fu^T^L^i*^  *  9"«^  "f  s'lan^  «aff.  he  had 
felt  refreshed.  Tlien  it  rained  hard  and  they  were 
aU  but  washed  out  of  the  huts.  It  was  a  very 
strange  life  — one  which  he  never  dreamed  could 
have  existed.  "Fancy  me,"  he  wrote,  "glad  to 
sleep  on  a  drenched  bed!"  There  was  the  riding 
school  Why  hadn't  he  learned  to  ride  as  a  boy? 
He  had  been  told  that  the  horse  was  a  noble  animal 


'-M 


84 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


E,4  ': 


I 

I 


■nd  the  friend  of  man.  He  waa  afraid  he  would 
U^usiona  shattered.  The  ho«e  was  the  most  iotoW? 
S^geant-Miuor  in  the  riding  school.    Pe^  was 

S?1jSir^f ""  ^°'  his'fhilosopWc  e^LZ^ 
m  narcWups.  It  was  real  courage.  His  lptt«ra 
contained  sSplestatement^  of  f^Tut  not  a  worf 
of  complaint     On  the  other  hand    they  were  S 

you""  mlS^be  l^^'*''  y°"  ^°"'*  1^^^'  know 
vonvf  ^  b-  *'"^"**^.  "  P''e"y  thin  time.  But 
C  leJv?^  7  splendidly,  and  when  you  l^t 

h^^rve^%TSir^^^^  "^you."^H^ 
Then  there  came  a  time  when  his  letters  otpw 
mZT'^  t°'t^':  .  At  last  they  ceaMt'"  §^e7 
After  a  week's  waiting  she  sent  m  anxious  tefcaS' 
THhe  answer  came  back.  "Quite  well.  WmS 
soon.  She  waited.  He  did  not  write.  One  even- 
mg  .an  umtamped  envelope  addressed  to X  hi  J 
fcduke^tn:^*^*^  ^^  '^•'"^^^  ^  ^«t  of 

adomeJwitL  exclamation  marks  at  the  Z^ 
tJL  ^?*'''t':*-     Tempy   2nd  Lieutenant   J.    M 
irmorresians  his  commission." 

in  ilfo*  «  f'  ^^^  ^'*^  '^  as  gently  as  he  could 
m  that  final  mterview.  He  put  his  hand  ka 
fatheriy  way  on  Doggie's  shoiSder  andXde  iU 

Kf  h.!t'L**^  '""'?  ***  ^"^-  He  had  done  tS 
best,  but  he  was  not  cut  out  for  an  officer.    Th^ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  aS 

were  mercUess  times.  In  matters  of  life  and  death 
we  coiJd  not  afford  weak  links  in  the  chain.  Soldiers 
in  high  command,  with  great  reputations,  had  al- 

I^l^''"i'^-''PP^-  ^x1  ^^e^'"  ^^  there  was 
hLKt*^  '^^^'^-  He  had  always  conducted 
himself  hke  a  genUeman  and  a  man  of  honour,  but 
he  had  not  the  quahties  necessary  for  the  comniand- 
in^  of  men.    He  must  send  in  his  resignation. 

n».„ir"  '^'J*^  "J?,  *  *'*'•  *"■**"  asl'ed  Doggie  in  a 
choking  voice.  "I  am  disgraced  foreveT^ 
,.  ^^^"'pne' .'eflf  ted  for  a  moment.  He  knew 
hnl  ^^'^f\  ^"^  ^l^  ^?  "  ""'e  hell  on  earth 
^Z  tt  .^*  ^"^  ,^',  ^^^  J°'"«^-  He  was  very 
Enf  i^^  ^'  ''"'^  ^°y.  P""  «  his  pack  ot 
fW  If:  K  ^  *r^,  Y^l^^y  *he  Toy  Pom  V  fault 
that  he  had  faded.  But  the  Gre^t  Hunt  could 
have  no  use  for  Toy  Poms.  At  last  he  took  a  sheet 
ot  regimental  notepaper  and  wrote: 
"Deah  Trevor. 

SJh  "^  H^  "■^  admiralhn  for  the  plucky  tmy  in 
rfi^"  ^^'^"^n  to  (yoercome  you/ physical 
disabilities,  and  I  am  only  loo  sorry  tKal  the^  should 
have  compelled  the  resignation  of  your  commission 
and  your  severance  from  the  rMirneni. 

Yours  sincerely, 

L.  G.  Catkd, 

He  handed  it  to  Doggie.  ^''  ^'•" 

"  That's  all  I  can  do  for  you.  my  poor  boy,"  said  he. 
Thank  you.  sir,"  said  Doggie. 

Doggie  took  a  room  at  the  Savoy  Hotel,  and  sat 
there  most  of  the  day,  the  pulp  of  a  man.  He  hid 
gone  to  the  Savoy,  not  daring  to  show  his  face  at 
the  famihar  Sturrock's.  At  the  Savoy  he  was  but 
a  nuinber  unknown,  unquestioned.    He  wore  civil- 

ifJinl"^.--    ^"""^  V'   *"^    uniforms  and  martial 
paraphemaha  as  he  had  been  allowed  to  retain  m 


..<«■*■. 


"■•''.   H     <■■-    ■  ■  '« 


MICKOCOI>Y   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No,  2) 


1.0    ^^  1^ 

12.2 


^     /APPLIED  INA^GE     Inc 


(716)  482  -  OJOO-  Phor 
(716)  288  -  5989  -  Fa< 


86 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


camp  —  for  one  can't  house  a  ton  of  kit  in  a  hut  — 
he  had  given  to  his  batman.  His  one  desu-e  now  was 
to  escape  from  the  eyes  of  his  fellow  men.  He 
telt  that  he  bore  upon  hun  the  stigma  of  his  dis- 
grace, obvious  to  any  casual  glance.  He  was  the 
man  who  had  been  turned  out  of  the  army  as  a 
hopeless  incompetent.  Even  worse  than  he  slacker 
—  for  the  slacker  might  have  latent  th  quaUties 
ttiat  he  lacked.  Even  at  the  best  and  bnghtest, 
be  could  only  be  mistaken  for  a  slacker,  once  more 
the  hkely  recipient  of  white  feathers  from  any  damsel 
patnoticaUy  indiscreet.  The  colonel's  letter  brought 
hun  httle  consolation.  It  is  true  that  he  carried 
It  about  with  him  in  his  pocket-book;  but  the 
gibing  eyes  of  observers  had  not  the  X-ray  power 
to  read  it  there.  And  he  could  not  pin  it  on  his 
hat.  Besides,  he  knew  that  the  kindly  Colonel 
had  stretched  a  point  of  veracity.  No  longer 
could  he  take  refuge  in  his  cherished  dehcacy  of 
constitution.    It  would  be  a  he. 

Peggy,  in  her  softest  and  most  pitying  mood 
never  guessed  the  nature  of  Doggie's  ordeal.  Those 
letters  so  brave,  sometunes  so  playful,  had  been 
wntten  with  shaky  hand,  misty  eyes,  throbbing 
head,  despau'ing  heart.  Looking  back,  it  seemed  to 
hun  one  blurred  dream  of  pain.  His  brother  officers 
were  no  worse  than  those  in  any  other  Kitchener 
regunent.  Indeed,  the  Colonel  was  unmensely 
proud  of  them  and  sang  their  praises  to  any  fellow 
dugout  who  would  Usten  to  him  at  the  Naval  and 
Military  Club.  But  how  were  a  crowd  of  young 
men  tramed  in  the  rough  and  tumble  of  public 
schools,  universities,  and  sport,  and  now  throbbing 
under  the  stress  of  the  new  deadly  game,  to  under- 
stand poor  Doggie  Trevor?  They  had  no  time  to 
take  him  seriously,  save  to  curse  him  when  he  did 
wrong,  and  in  their  leisure  time  he  became  naturally 
a  butt  for  their  amusement. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


87 


"Surely  I  don't  have  to  sleep  in  there?"  he  asked 
the  subaltern  who  was  taking  him  round  on  the 
day  of  his  arrival  in  camp,  and  showed  him  his 
sc^ualid  httle  cubby-hole  of  a  hut  with  its  dirty 
boards,  its  cheap  table  and  chair,  its  narrow,  sleep- 
dispelling  little  bedstead. 

'  Yes  it's  a  beastly  hole  isn't  it?  Until  last 
month  we  were  under  canvas." 

"Sleeping  on  the  bare  ground?" 

"Wallowmg  in  the  mud  like  pigs,  not  one  of  us 
without  a  cold.  Never  had  such  a  filUiy  time  in 
mylife." 

Doggie  looked  about  him  helplessly  while  the 
comforter  smiled  grimly.  Already  his  disconsolate 
attitude  towards  the  dingy  hutments  of  the  camp 
and  the  layer  of  thick  mud  on  his  beautiful  new 
boots  had  diverted  his  companion. 

"Couldn't  I  have  this  furnished  at  my  own  ex- 
pense? A  carpet  and  a  proper  bed,  and  a  few 
pictures  — " 

"I  wouldn't  try." 

''Why  not?" 

"Some  of  it  might  get  broken  —  not  quite  acci- 
dentally." 

"But  surely,"  gasped  Doggie,  "the  soldiers  would 
not  be  allowed  to  come  in  here  and  touch  my  fur- 
niture?" 

"  It  seems,"  said  the  subaltern,  after  a  bewildered 
stare,  "that  you  have  quite  a  lot  to  learn." 

Doggie  had.  The  subaltern  reported  a  new  kind 
of  animal  to  the  mess.  The  mess  saw  to  it  that 
Doggie  should  be  crammed  with  information  —  but 
information  wholly  inc-irrect  and  misleading,  which 
added  to  his  many  "Acuities.  When  his  ton  of 
kit  arrived  he  held  u^  unwiUing  reception  in  the 
hut  and  found  himself  obliged  to  explain  to  gravely 
curious  men  the  use  for  which  the  various  articles 
were  designed. 


M 


88 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Thw,  I  suppose,  is  a  new  type  of  Ms-mask?" 
rVo.  It  was  a  patent  cooker.  Doggie  politely 
^owed  how  it  worked.  He  also  demonstrated 
that  a  sleepmg-bag  was  not  a  kit  sack  of  a  size 
unauthorised  by  the  regulations,  and  that  a  huge 
steel-pomted  walking-stick  had  nothing  to  do  with 
agriculture. 

He  was  very  weary  of  his  visiters  by  the  time  they 
had  gone.  The  next  day  the  Adjutant  advised 
tan  to  scrap  the  lot.  So  sorrowfully  he  sent  back 
most  of  his  purchases  to  London. 

Then  the  Imp  of  Mischance  brought  as  a  visitor 
to  the  mess  a  sub  from  another  regiment  who 
belonged  to  Doggie's  part  of  the  country. 

Why  —  I'm  blowed,  if  it  i-n't  Doggie  Trevorl" 
he  exclaimed  carelessly.    "How  d'ye  do,  Doggie?" 
So  thenceforward  he  was  known  in  the  regiment 
by  the  hated  name. 

TTiere  were  rags,  in  which,  as  he  was  often  the 
victun,  he  was  forced  to  join.  His  fastidiousness 
loathed  the  coarse  personal  contact  of  arms  and 
legs  and  bodies.  His  undeveloped  strength  could 
not  cope  with  the  muscle  of  his  young  brother 
barbarians.  Aching  with  the  day's  fatigue,  he 
would  plead,  to  no  avail,  to  be  left  alone.  Com- 
pared with  these  feared  and  detested  scraps,  he 
considered,  in  after  tunes,  battles  to  be  agreeable 
recreations. 

Had  he  been  otherwise  competent,  he  might  have 
won  through  the  teasing  and  the  ragging  of  the  mess. 
INo  one  dishked  him.  He  was  pleasant  mannered, 
good-natured  and  appeared  to  bear  no  malice. 
True  his  ignorance  not  only  of  the  ways  of  the  army 
but  of  the  ways  of  their  old  hearty  world,  was 
colossal,  his  mode  of  expression  rather  that  of  a 
precise  old  Church  dipiitary  than  of  a  sub  in  a 
reg;:nent  of  Fusiliers,  his  habits,  including  a  nervous 
shnnking  from  untidiness  and  dirt,  those  of  a  dear 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


89 


old  maid;  but  the  mess  thought,  honestly,  thet  he 
could  be  knocked  into  their  own  social  shape,  and 
m  the  process  of  knocking  carried  out  their  own 
traditions.  Th.y  might  have  succeeded  if  Doggie 
had  discovered  any  reserve  source  of  pride  from 
which  to  draw.  But  Doggie  was  hopeless  at  his 
work.  The  mechanism  of  a  rifle  filled  him  with 
dismay.  He  could  not  help  shutting  his  eyes  be- 
fore he  pulled  the  trigger.  Inured  aU  his  life  to 
lethargic  action,  he  found  the  smart,  crisp  move- 
ments of  drill  ahnost  impossible  to  attain.  The 
Ridmg  School  was  a  terror  and  a  torture.  Every 
second  he  deemed  himself  in  imminent  peril  of 
death.    Said  the  Sergeant-Major : 

"Now,  Mr.  Trevor,  you're  sitting  on  a  'orse  and 
not  a  oily-bush. 

And  Doggie  would  wish  the  horse  and  the  Ser- 
geant-Major in  hell. 

Again,  what  notion  could  poor  Doggie  have  of 
command?  He  had  never  raised  his  mild  tenor 
voice  to  damn  anybody  in  his  hfe.  At  first  the 
tone  m  which  the  officers  ordered  the  men  about 
shocked  him.  So  rough,  so  unmannerly,  so  unkind. 
He  could  not  understand  the  cheery  lack  of  resent- 
ment with  which  the  men  obeyed.  He  could  not 
get  into  the  way  of  miUtary  directness,  could  never 
check  the  polite  "Do  you  mind"  that  came  instinc- 
tively to  his  hps.  Now  if  you  ask  a  private  soldier 
whether  he  nunds  doing  a  thing  instead  of  t«Uing 
him  to  do  it,  his  brain  begins  to  get  confused.  As 
one  defaulter  whose  confusion  of  brain  had  led  him 
mto  trouble  observed  to  his  mates:  "What  can 
you  do  with  a  bUghter  who's  a  cross  between  a 
unT™^  Archbishop  and  a  ruddy  dicky-bird?" 
What  else  save  show  in  divers  and  ingenious  ways 
that  they  mocked  at  his  authority?  Doggie  had 
the  nervous  dread  of  the  men  that  he  had  antici- 
pated.   During  his  training  on  parade  words  of 


90 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Tl 


I    1 


command  stuck  in  his  throat.    When  forced  out 
they  grotesquely  mixed  themselves  together. 
The  adjutant  gave  advice. 
"Speak  out,  man.    Bawl.    You're  dealing  with 
soldiers  at  drill,  not  saying  sweet  nothings  to  old 
ladies  m  a  drawing-room." 

And  Doggie  tried.  Doggie  tried  very  hard.  He 
was  mortifiwl  by  his  own  stupidity.  Little  points 
ot  drill  and  duty  that  the  others  of  his  own  standing 
seemed  to  pick  up  at  once,  almost  by  instinct,  he 
could  only  grasp  after  long  and  tedious  toil.  No 
one  reahied  that  his  brain  was  stupefied  by  the 
awful  and  unaccustomed  physical  fatigue. 
And  then  came  the  inevitable  end. 

So  Doggie  crept  into  the  Savoy  Hotel  and  hid 
hmise^  there,  wishing  he  were  dead.  It  was  some 
hme  before  he  could  wire  the  terrible  letter  to 
i'eggy.  He  did  so  on  the  day  when  he  saw  that 
ms  resignation  was  gazetted.  He  wrote  after  many 
anguished  attempts: 

"Dear  Peggy, 

it  "A  '^f "'  *"'■'"*"  ^/"'■^  "^«'  the  dreadful  thina 
that  has  happened,  because  I  simply  couldn't.  I  have 
resigned  my  commission.  Not  of  my  own  free  will, 
for,  believe  me,  I  would  have  gone  through  anythina 
for  your  sake,  to  say  nothing  of  the  country  and  my 
own  self-respect.  To  put  it  brutally,  I  ^have  been 
mmwn  out  for  sheer  incompetence. 

"I  neither  hope,  nor  expect,  nor  want  you  to  con- 
tinue your  engagement  to  a  disgraced  man.  I  release 
you  from  every  obligation  your  pity  and  generosity 
may  think  binding.  I  want  you  to  forget  me  arid 
™5r5',."  Ti"-  V",'!  ""^'^  <*>  the  work  of  this  new  world. 

What  I  shall  do  I  don't  know.  I  have  scarcely 
yet  been  able  .o  think.  Possibly  I  shall  go  abroad. 
At  any  rate  J  slmnt  return  to  Durdlebury.     If  women 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


91 


terdme  white  feathers  before  I  joined,  what  would  Ihey 
tend  me  now?  It  will  always  6e  my  consolation  to 
know  thai  you  once  gave  me  your  love,  in  spite  of  the 
pain  of  realising  that  I  hate  forfeited  it  iy  mv  un- 
worthiness. 

"Please  tell  Uncle  Edward  (hoi  I  feel  keenly  his 
position,  for  he  was  responsible  for  getting  me  the 
commission  through  General  Gadsby.  Give  my  love 
to  my  Aunt  if  she  will  have  it. 

Yours  always  affectionately, 
J.  Mabmaduke  Thevob," 
By  return  of  post  came  the  answer. 
"Dearest, 

"We  are  all  desperately  disappointed.  Perhaps 
we  hurried  on  things  too  quickly,  and  tried  you  too 
high  all  at  once.  I  ought  to  have  known.  Oh  my 
poor,  dear^  boy,  you  must  have  had  a  dreadful  time. 
Why  didnt  you  tell  me?  The  news  in  the  gazette 
came  upon  me  like  a  thunderbolt.  I  didn't  know 
what  to  think.  I'm  afraid  I  thought  the  worst,  the  very 
worst  — that  you  had  got  tired  of  it  and  resigned 
of  your  own  accord.  How  was  one  to  know?  Your 
letter  was  almost  a  relief. 

"In  offering  to  release  me  from  my  engagement  you 
are  acting  like  the  honourable  gentleman  you  are.  Of 
wurse  I  can  understand  your  feelings.  But  I  should 
be  a  little  beast  to  accept  right  away  like  that.  If 
there  are  any  feathers  about,  I  should  deserve  to  have 
them  stuck  on  to  me  with  tar.  Don't  think  of  going 
abroad  or  doing  anything  foolish,  dear,  like  that,  till  you 
have  seen  me  —  that  is  to  say  us,  for  Dad  is  bringing 
Mother  and  me  up  to  town  by  the  first  train  to-morrow. 
Dad  feels  sure  that  everything  is  not  lost.  He'll  dig 
out  General  Gadsby  and  fix  up  something  for  you. 
In  the  meantime  get  us  rooms  at  the  Savoy,  though 
Mother  is  worried  as  to  whether  it's  a  respectable  place 
for  Deans  to  stay  at.    But  I  know  you  wouldn't  like 


92 


THE  ROUGH  BOAD 


il 


■ 


to  meet  us  al  Slurrock's  —  otherwise  you  would  have 
been  there  yourself.    Meet  ol  •  train.    All  love  from 

Peooy.  ' 

Doggie  engaged  the  rooms,  but  he  did  not  meet 
the  train.  He  did  not  even  stay  in  the  hotel  to 
meet  them.  He  could  not  meet  them.  He  could 
not  meet  the  pity  in  their  eyes.  He  read  in  Peggy's 
note  a  desire  to  pet  and  soothe  him  and  call  him 
"Poor  little  Doggie,"  and  he  writhed.  He  could 
not  even  take  up  an  heroic  attitude  and  say  to 
P^gy:  "When  I  have  retrieved  the  past  and  can 
bring  you  an  unsuUied  reputation,  I  wfll  return  and 
claun  you.  Till  then  fareweU. '  There  was  no 
retrieving  the  past.  Other  men  might  fail  at  first 
and  then  make  good;  but  he  was  not  like  them. 
His  was  the  fall  of  Humpty  Dumpty.  Final 
irretrievable.  ' 

He  packed  up  his  things  in  a  fright  and,  leaving 
no  address  at  the  Savoy,  drove  to  the  Russell  Hotel 
m  Bloomsbury.  But  he  wrote  Peggy  a  letter  "to 
await  arrival. '  If  time  had  permitted  he  would 
have  sent  a  telegram,  stating  that  he  was  off  for 
lobobk  or  Tierra  del  Fuego,  and  thereby  pre- 
vented their  useless  journey;  but  they  had  aheady 
started  when  he  received  Peggy's  message. 

Nothing  could  be  done,  he  wrote,  m  effect,  to 
her,  nothing  m  the  way  of  redemption.  He  would 
not  put  her  father  to  the  risk  of  any  other  such 
humihation.  He  had  learned  by  the  most  bitter 
experience  that  the  men  who  counted  now  in  the 
world  8  respect  and  in  woman's  love  were  men  of  a 
type  to  which,  with  all  the  goodwiU  in  the  world 
he  could  not  make  himself  belong  —  he  did  not  say 
to  which  he  wished  he  could  belong  with  all  the 
agony  and  yearning  of  his  soul.  Peggy  must  for- 
get him.  The  only  thing  he  could  do  was  to  act 
up  to  her  generous  estimate  of  him  as  an  honour- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


93 


able  gentleman.  As  such  it  was  his  duty  to  with- 
draw for  ever  from  her  life.  His  exact  words 
however,  were:  "You  know  how  I  have  always 
hated  slang,  how  it  has  jarred  upon  me,  often  to 
your  amusement,  when  you  have  used  it.  But 
1  have  learned  m  the  past  months  how  expressive 
It  may  be.  Through  slang  I've  learned  what  I  am 
1  am  a  bom  rotter.'  A  girl  like  you  can't  possibly 
love  and  marry  a  rotter.  So  the  rotter,  having  a 
hngermg  sense  of  decency,  makes  his  bow  and 
exits  — God  knows  where. 

.  Peggy,  red-eyed,  adrift,  rudderless  on  a  frighten- 
mg  sea,  caUed  her  father  into  her  bedroom  at  the 
bavoy  and  showed  him  the  letter.  He  drew  out 
and  adjusted  his  round  tortoise-shell  rimmed  read- 
m^  rfasses,  and  read  it. 

'That's  a  miraculously  new  Doggie,"  said  he. 
PMgy  clutched  the  edges  of  his  coat. 
I  ve  never  heard  you  call  him  that  before." 
It  has  never  been  worth  while,"  said  the  Dean. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AT  the  Savoy,  during  the  first  stupefaction  of 
his  misery,  Doggie  I  id  not  noticetl  particu- 
larly the  prevalence  of  khaki.    At  the  Russell 
it  dwelt  insistent,  like  the  mud  on  Salisbury  Plain. 
Men  that  might  have  l)een  the  twin  brethren  of  his 
late  brother  officers  were  everywhere,  free,  careless, 
efficient.    The  sight  of  them  added  the  gnaw  of 
envy  to  his  heart-ache.    Even  in  his  bedroom  he 
could  hear  the  jingle  of  their  spurs  and  their  cheery 
voices   as   they   clanked  along   the   corridor.    On 
tJie  third  day  after  his  migration  he  took  a  bold 
step  and  moved  into  lodgmgs  in  Woburn  Place. 
Here  at  least  he  could  find  quiet,  untroubled  by 
heartrending  sights  and  sounds.    He  spent  most  of 
his  time  in  dull  reading  and  dispirited  walking. 
For  he  could  walk  now  —  so  much  had  his  training 
done  for  him  —  and  walk  for  many  miles  without 
fatigue.    For  all  the  enjoyment  he  got  out  of  it, 
he  might  as  well  have  marched   round  a   prison 
yard.    Indeed  there  were  some  who  tramped  the 
prison  yards  with  keener  zest.    They  were  buoyei 
up  with  the  hope  of   freedom,   they  could    k  tk 
forward  to  the  ever-approaching  day  when  they 
should  be  thrown  once  more  into  the  glad  whirl  of 
fife.    But  the  miraculously   new  Doggie  had  no 
hope.    He  felt  for  ever  imprisoned  in  his  shame. 
His  failure  preyed  on  his  mind. 

He  dallied  with  thoughts  of  suicide.  Why  hadn't 
he  saved  at  any  rate,  his  service  revolver?  Then 
he  remembered  the  ugly  habit-s  of  the  umnana'»e- 
able  thing  —  how  it  always  kicked  its  muzzle  up 

94 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


95 


in  the  air.  Would  he  have  been  able  even  to  shoot 
himself  with  it?  And  he  smiled  in  self-derision 
Drowning  was  not  so  difficult.  Any  fool  could 
throw  himself  into  the  water  With  a  view  to  the 
inspection  of  a  suitable  spot,  b  ggie  wandered  idly, 
in  the  dusk  of  one  eve.  iiig,  .o  Waterloo  Bridge, 
and  turning  his  back  to  the  ceaseless  traffic,  leaned 
his  elbows  on  the  parapet  and  stared  in  front  of 
^m.  A  few  lights  already  gleamed  from  Somerset 
House  and  the  more  dimly  seen  buildings  of  the 
Temple.  The  dome  of  St.  Paul's  loomed  a  dark 
shadow  on  a  mist.  The  river  stretched  below  very 
peaceful,  very  inviting.  The  parapet  would  be 
easy  to  climb.  He  did  not  know  whether  he  could 
dive  in  the  approved  manner,  hands  joined  over 
head.  He  had  never  learned  to  swim,  let  alone 
dive.  At  any  rate  he  could  fall  off.  In  that  art 
uie  Riding  School  had  proved  him  a  past-master. 
But  the  spot  had  its  disadvantages.  It  was  too 
public.    Perhaps  other  bridges  might  afford  more 

Erivacy.  He  would  inspect  them  all.  It  would 
e  something  to  do.  There  was  no  hurr>-.  As 
he  was  not  wanted  m  this  world,  so  he  had  no 
assurance  of  being  welcome  in  the  next.  He  had 
a  morbid  vision  of  avatar  after  avatar  being  kicked 
from  sphere  to  sphere. 

At  this  point  of  his  reflections  he  became  aware 
of  a  presence  by  his  side.  He  turned  his  head  and 
found  a  soldier,  an  ordinary  private,  very  close  to 
him,  also  leaning  on  the  parapet. 

"  I  thought  I  wasn't  mistaken  in  Mr.  Marmaduke 
Trevor." 

Doggie  started  away,  on  the  point  of  flight, 
dreadmg  the  possible  insolence  of  one  of  the  mer,  jf 
his  late  regiment.  But  the  voice  of  the  speaker 
rang  in  his  ears  with  a  strange  familiarity,  and  the 
great  fleshy  nose,  the  high  cheekbones  and  the  little 
grey   eyes   in   the  weather-bea'en   face   suggested 


96 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


vaguely  someone  of  the  long  ago.    His  dawning 
recognition  amused  the  soldier. 

"  Yes,  laddie.  Ye're  right.  It's  your  old  Phineas. 
Phineas  McPhail,  Esq.,  M.A.,  defunct.  Now  33702 
Private  P.  McPhail  redivivus." 

He  warmly  wrung  the  hand  of  the  semi-bewildered 
Doggie,  who  murmured:   "Very  glad  to  meet  you, 
I'm  sure." 
Phineas,  gaunt  and  bony,  took  his  arm. 
"Would  It  not  just  be  possible,"  he  said,  in  his 
old  half-pedantic,  half-ironic  intonation,   "to  find 
a  locality  less  exposed  to  the  roar  of  traffic  and  the 
rude  jostling  of  pedestrians  and  the  inclemency  of 
the  elements,  in  which  we  can  enjoy  the  amenities 
of  a  little  refined  conversation?" 
It  was  like  a  breath  from  the  past.    Doggie  smiled. 
"  Which  way  are  you  going? 
"Your   way,    my   dear   Marmaduke,   was   ever 
mine,  until  I  was  8wej)t,  I  thought  for  ever,  out  of 
your  path  by  a  torrential  spate  of  whisky." 

He  laughed,  as  though  it  had  been  a  playful 
freak  of  destiny.  Doggie  laughed  too.  But  for 
the  words  he  had  addressed  to  hotel  and  lodging- 
house  folk,  he  had  sj^oken  to  no  one  for  over  a  fort- 
night. The  instinctive  craving  for  companionship 
made  Phineas  suddenly  welcome. 

"Yes.  Let  us  have  a  talk,"  said  he.  "Come 
to  my  rooms,  if  you  have  the  time.  There'll  be 
some  dinner." 

"Will  I  come?  Will  I  have  dinner?  Will  I 
re-enter  once  more  the  Paradise  of  the  affluent? 
Laddie,  I  will." 

In  »he  Strand  they  hailed  a  taxi  and  drove  t« 
Bloomsbury.    On  the  way  Phineas  asked: 

"You  mention  your  rooms.    Are  you  residing 
permanently  in  London?" 
"Yes."  said  Doffgie, 
"And  Durdlebury?" 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


97 


'Tm  not  going  back." 

"London's  a  place  full  of  temptations  for  thoM 
without  experience,"  Phineas  observed  sagely. 

1.'^^'',.^"°'  noticed  any,"  Doggie  replied.  On 
which  Phineas  laughed  and  slapped  him  on  the 
knee. 

"Man,"  said  he,  "when  I  first  saw  you  I  thought 
you  had  changed  into  a  disillusioned  misanthropist. 
But  I'm  wrong.    You  haven't  changed  a  bit." 

A  few  minutes  later  they  reached  Woburn  Place. 
Doggie  showed  him  into  the  sittiiig-room  on  the 
drawing-room  floor.  A  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate, 
for  though  U  was  only  early  autumn,  the  even- 
ing was  cold.  The  table  was  set  for  Doggie's 
dinner.  Phineas  looked  round  him  in  surprise. 
The  heterogeneous  and  tasteless  furniture,  the 
dreadful  mid- Victorian  prints  on  the  walls  — one 
was  the  "Return  of  the  Guards  from  the  Crimea," 
representing  the  landing  from  the  troopship,  re- 
pellent in  its  smug  unreality,  the  coarse  glass  pnd 
well-used  plate  on  the  table,  the  crumpled  nar  i 
in  a  ring  (for  Marmaduke,  who  in  his  moth-  i 
house  had  never  been  taught  to  dream  that  a  napiun 
could  possibly  be  used  for  two  consecutive  meals!) 
the  general  air  of  slipshod  Philistinism,  —  afl  came 
as  a  shock  to  Phineas,  who  had  expected  to  find  in 
Marraaduke's  "rooms"  a  replica  of  the  fastidious 
prettmess  of  the  peacock  and  ivory  room  at  Denby 
Hall.  He  scratched  his  head  covered  with  a  thick 
brown  thatch. 

"Laddie,"  said  he  gravely.  "You  must  excuse 
me  if  I  take  a  liberty;  but  I  canna  fit  you  into  this 
environment." 

Doggie  looked  about  him  also.    "Seems  funny 
doesn  t  it.»"  ' 

'It  cannot  be  that  you've  come  down  in  the 
world.-" 

"To  bed-rock,"  said  Doggie. 


98 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"No?"  said  Phineas,  with  an  air  of  concern. 
"Man,  I'm  awful  sorry.  I  know  what  the  coming 
down  feels  like.  And  I,  finding  it  not  abhorrent  to  a 
sophisticated  and  well-trained  conscience,  and  think- 
ing you  could  well  afford  it,  extracted  a  thousand 
pounds  from  your  fortune.  My  dear  lad,  if  Phineas 
McPhail  could  return  the  money  — " 

Doggie  broke  in  with  a  laugh.  "Pray  don't 
distress  yourself,  Phineas.  It's  not  a  question  of 
money.  I've  as  much  as  ever  I  had.  The  last 
thing  in  the  world  I've  had  to  think  of  has  been 
money." 

"Then  what  in  the  holy  names  of  Thunder  and 
Beauty,"  cried  Phineas,  throwing  out  one  hand 
to  an  ancient  saddle-bag  sofa  whose  ends  were 
covered  by  flimsy  rags,  and  the  other  to  the  de- 
cayed ormolu  clock  on  the  mantelpiece,  "what 
in  the  name  of  common  sense  are  you  doing  in  this 
awful,  inelegant  lodging-house?  " 

"I  don't  knew,"  replied  Doggie.  "It's  a  fact," 
he  continued  after  a  pause.  "The  scheme  of  deco- 
ration is  revolting  to  every  aesthetic  sense  which 
I've  spent  my  life  in  cultivating.  Its  futile  pre- 
tentiousness is  the  rasping  irritation  of  every  hour. 
Yet  here  I  am.  Quite  comfortable.  And  here  I 
propose  to  stay." 

Phineas  McPhail,  M.A.,  late  of  Glasgow  and 
Cambridge,  looked  at  Doggie  with  his  keen  little 

frey  eyes  beneath  bent  and  bristling  eyebrows, 
n  the  language  of  33702  Private  McPhail,  he 
asked: 

"What  the  blazes  is  it  all  about?" 

"That's  a  long  story,"  said  Doggie,  looking  at 
his  watch.  "In  the  meantime  I  had  better  give 
some  orders  about  dinner.  And  you  would  like 
to  wash." 

He  threw  open  a  wing  of  the  folding  doors,  once 
in  Georgian  times  separating  drawing-room  from 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


99 


withdrawing-room,  and  now  separating  living-room 
from  bedroom,  and  switching  on  the  light,  mvited 
McPhail  to  follow. 
"I  think  you'll  find  everything  you  want,"  said  he 
Phmeas   McPhail,   left  alone   to   his  ablutions 
agam  looked  round,  and  he  had  more  reason  than 
ever  to  ask  what  it  was  all  about.    Marmaduke's 
bedroom  at  Denby  Hall  had  been  a  dream  of  satin 
i  wood  and  duU  blue  silk.    The  furniture  and  hangings 

?  had  been  Mrs.   Trevor's  present   to   Marmaduke 

on  his  sixteenth  birthday.  He  remembered  how 
he  had  been  bored  to  death  by  that  stupendous  ass 
ol  an  old  woman  —  for  so  he  had  characterised  her 
—  durmg  the  process  of  selection  and  mstallation 
Ihe  present  room,  although  far  more  luxurious 
J  than  any  that  Phineas  McPhail  had  slept  m  for 

,;  years,  formed  a  striking  contrast  with  that  remem- 

j  bered  nest  of  efi'eminacy. 

!;  "rU  have  to  give  it  up,"  he  said  to  himselt. 

1^  But  just  as  he  had  put  the  finishing  touches  to  his 

J  hau-  an  idea  occurred  to  him.    He  flung  open  the 

door.  '^ 

"  Laddie,  I've  got  it.  It's  a  woman." 
But  Dog^e  laughed  and  shook  his  head,  and, 
teaving  McPhail,  took  his  turn  in  the  bedroom. 
For  the  first  time  since  his  return  to  civil  life  he 
ceased  for  a  few  moments  to  brood  over  his  troubles. 
McPhail  s  mystification  amused  him.  McPhail's 
personality  and  address,  viewed  in  the  Ught  of  the 
past,  were  full  of  interest.  Obviously  he  was  a  man 
who  lived  unashamed  on  low  levels.  Doggie  won- 
dered how  he  could  have  regarded  him  for  years 
with  a  respect  ahnost  amounting  to  veneration. 
In  a  cunous  unformulated  way  Doggie  felt  that  he 
had  authority  over  this  man  so  much  older  than 
hunseh,  who  had  once  been  his  master.  It  tickled 
mto  some  kind  of  life  his  deadened  self-esteem. 
llcTc,  at  last,  was  a  man  with  whom  he  could  con- 


100  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

ht^^J^^  *"™  ^°"°*^-    '^^  ^"^  "^orm  caused 
nim  no  envy.  v.«uavu 

mI'pwi^*  "fu""*  altogether  incorrect,"  said 
McPhail  when  they  sat  down  to  dinner,  "i^  noint- 
mg  out  the  sweet  uses  of  adversity.  If  it  had  not 
been  for  the  adversity  of  a  wee  bit  operatbn?  I 
shoidd  not  now  be  on  sick  furlough.  A^  if  I  had 
not  been  on  furlough  I  shouldn't  Tiave  the  pleasure 
ot  this  agreeable  reconciliation.  Here's  to  vou 
laddie,  and  to  our  lasting  friendship."    He  simipd 

f»  tklT  .•  Z"*"?^**  ""?'  c<-what  the  plague 
w  the  Latin  for  vintages?  But  'twiU  serve.*^  lie 
drank  agam  and  smacled  his  lips.  "It  wiU  even 
serve  very  satisfactorily.    Good  wine  at  a^rfect 

^i'wJ^  ^^  T^'"  ^^'^  ^°?«^«'  "yo"  haven't  told 
me  why  you  became  a  soldier." 

\J*^  ^"^  **^  vicissitudes  dating  from  the  hour  I 

£iSZ  wrt-  ^^^  PhineasT-vicissitudes^e 
recital  of  which  would  wring  your  heart  laddie 
and  md.e  angels  weep  if  tffeir  lachrS  gS 

cuhnmated  four  months  ago  in  an  attack  of  fervid 
and  penniless  patriotism.  No  one  seemed  to  want 
me  except  my  country.  She  clamoured  for  me 
on  every  hoardmg  and  every  omnibus.  A  recruit- 
mg  sergeant  m  Trafalgar  sgare  tapped  me^"Sie 
arm  and  said,  'Young  man,  vour  ^try  wants 

rX  ^^  ^7'*^  T  ^""'^^  'caution,  'Can  you 
take  your  affidavit  that  you  got  the  information 
straight  from  the  War  Office?^    'I  ca^/™*h° 

J^Trll  r  "^^'^,°°  ^  ^^^  and  bade  him 
take  me  to  her.  ^at's  how  I  became  33702  Private 
Phin^s  McPhail  A  Company  10th  Wessex  Ra^gere! 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


101 


"Do  you  like  itP"  asked  Dcggie. 

PJiineas  rubbed  the  side  of  his  thick  nose  thought- 

"There  you  come  to  the  metaphysical  concep- 
tion of  human  happiness,"  he  replied.  "In  itse¥ 
It  IS  a  vile  life.    To  a  man  of  thirty-four  —  " 

Good  Lord  I  "cried  Doggie,  "I  always  thought 
you  were  about  fifty  I"  ^ 

"Your  mother  caught  me  young,  laddie.  To  a 
man  ot  thuty-four,  a  graduate  of  ancient  and 
honourabte  umversities  and  a  whilom  candidate 
tor  Holy  Orders,  it  is  a  Ufe  that  would  seem  to  have 
no  attraction  whatever.  The  hours  are  absurd, 
the  work  distasteful  and  the  mode  of  living  re- 
pulsive. But  strange  to  say,  it  fully  contentlme. 
liie  secret  of  happiness  hes  in  the  supple  adapta- 
bihty  to  conditions.  \Mien  I  found  that  it  was 
necessary  to  perform  ridiculous  antics  with  my  legs 
and  arms,  I  entered  into  the  comicality  of  the 
Idea  and  performed  them  with  an  indulgent  zest 
wJiich  soon  won  me  the  precious  encomiums  of 
my  superiors  in  rank.  When  I  found  that  the 
language  of  the  canteen  was  not  that  of  the  pulpit 
or  the  drawu.g-room,  I  quickly  acquired  the  new 
vocabulary  and  won  the  pleasant  esteem  of  mv 
equals.  By  means  of  this  faculty  of  adaptability 
1  can  suck  enjoyment  out  of  everythmg.  But  at 
the  same  tune,  mind  you,  keepmg  m  reserve  a 
utue  secret  fount  of  pleasure." 

",^^*  do  you  caU  a  Uttle  secret  fount  of  pleas- 
ure?   asked  Doggie. 

"I'll  give  you  an  illustration  —  and  if  you're 
the  man  I  consider  you  to  be,  you'll  take  a  hum- 
orous view  of  my  frankness.  At  present  I  adapt 
myselt  to  a  rough  atmosphere  of  coarseness  and 
lustmess  ir  which  nothing  coarse  or  lusty  I  could 
do  would  produce  the  slightest  ripple  of  a  convul- 
sion:   but  I  have  my  store  of  a  cultivated  mind 


102 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


and  chean  editions  of  the  classics,  my  little  secret 
fount  of  Castaly  to  drink  from  whenever  I  so  pW 

Sni;K*'''f  *'^'^'  ^''^'^  ^  l»«d  the  honour  ote 
responsible  for  your  education,  I  adapted  mvsdf 
tea  hothouse  atmosphere  in  -.hich  RespectXuty 
and  the  concomitant  virtues  of  SupinenesTond 
Stoth  were  cultivated  like  rare  orchids,  but^n  mv 
bedroom  I  kept  a  secret  fount  which  had  its  ^uTce 
in  some  good  Scots  distillery  " 

witT^XCnt'^r^'^"*  "^  ^''"^'^  ^'  ^^''^^- 

afJaSug^tfSSr!'    ^^^««'"    -d    D»««^e. 
f.,1,^""'"  ?»»<*  PhJneas,  laying  down  his  knife  and 

fact  saved  me  from  the  Church  "^  ^^ 

PJ^^f  tJie  Church  from  you,"  said  Doggie  quietlv 

follot^ed  Conteial'vL^^a  triaf^BL'oS 
oVoflXdS'..'  w-;\te^-c&^ont 

Giirj|;rcr  xr3%=r  b^L^ned^ 

since  this  spell  of  oriental  ease  at  &v  hS   £ 
developed  his  philosophy,  iUustrath^H^  by  h,S 
dents  more  or  less  reputable  in  his  latfr  careJr     At 

md  oHZiH  "^J'  ^:^°"«°  thousand  pound 
ana    ot    considerable   savines   from    a    a..k<.to!!7-  i 

Sars  Efe'  T'-''  ^^^hfrwil^d  STtg 
H-odigaJs  hfe.    Paris  saw  most  of  his  monev  — 

tew'^'^PleS  .WT  ""f  rP'^««  DogS'^Lr 
^  »ili'  •  "'^i*""".  ?'aret  set  his  tongue  waccine  in 
.-abelaisian  reminiscence.    After  pJis  cSi^ks 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  103 

R«i  ^*i  ^"1?^  If  y**"  *^°^  ^"^  to  cook  them. 
Borrowed  salt  and  pepper  and  a  litUe  stolen  butter 
worked  wondera.  But  they  were  irritating  to 
f.  ff"^^^-  He  lay  on  the  floor,  said  he  and 
yelled  for  fatted  calf;  but  there  was  no  soft-h^ad^ 
parent  to  supply  it.  Phineas  McPhaU  must  be  a 
slave  again  and  work  for  his  living.  Then  came 
private  coaching,  free  lance  journalism,  hunting 
for  secretaryships:  the  commonplace  story  hu- 
morously  told  of  the  wastrel's  decline;  then  a  gor- 
geous efflorescence  in  light  green  and  gold  as  the 
man  outside  a  picture  palace  in  C^erwell- 
wid  lasUy,  the  penniless  patriot  throwing  himself 
mto  the  arms  of  his  desirous  country. 

Have  you  any  whisky  in  the  house,  laddie?" 
he  asked  after  the  dumer  things  had  been  taken 
iiway.  <*">^cu 

"No,"  said  Doggie.  "But  I  could  easily  get 
you  some.  '   "* 

"Pray  don't,"  said  McPhafl.  "If  you  had  I 
was  gomg  to  ask  you  to  be  kind  enough  not  to 'let 
jom  excel  ent  landlord,  whom  I  recognize  ^  a 
buUer  of  the  old  school,  produce  it.  Butlers  of 
ttie  old  school  are  apt,  Uke  Peddle,  to  bring  in  a 
maddemng  tray  of  decanters,  syphons  and  glasses. 
You  may  not  beheve  me,  but  I  Wen't  touched  a 

>R^^  ^^^'^y  ^^^  I  joined  the  army." 
Why?    asked  Doggie. 

McPhail  looked  at  the  long,  carefully  preserved 
ash  of  one  of  Doggie's  excellent  cigars. 

Tn  ^rl  t  ^.?"*  ?^  ^^^  '*°'=*""^  «f  adaptabihty. 
In  order  to  attain  happiness  in  the  army,  the  first 
step  IS  to  avoid  differences  of  opinion  with  the  civil 
and  mihtary  pohce  and  non-commissioned  officers, 
and  such  hke  sycophantic  myrmidons  of  authority. 
Being  a  man  of  academic  education,  it  is  with  diffi- 
culty that  I  agree  with  them  when  I'm  sober.  If 
1  were  drunk,  my  bonnie  laddie—"  he  waved  a 


104 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


1 1^ 


mstic  scheme  of  existence.    But  if  you  have  Z^ 
more  ofthat  pleasant  claret—"         ^  ^  ^^ 

I    j?^?^,  '^^  **»e  beU  and  jrave  the  ordpr     TJ.» 
landlord  brought  in  bottle  and  &      °'***'-    ^" 
«ff«n       "'"*•  "y  4^"  Marmaduke,"  said  McPhail 
after  an  appreciative  sip,  "now  thatThave  toW 

impelled  him  durmg  a  vicious  rag  in  the  mw.,  t« 
clutch  a  man's  hair  and  ahnost  p'ull  Vout'^th^ 

st^S  ,^°his"?i^v  "^'ivJ  ^'".z?"':  ''^  -•^. 

of  mvMlf  — lh«  tfii  I  ve  reached  the  bed-rock 
ZaZ  Ld^t^'^'^h  °i  himiiUation  and  dis- 
Sr*  uT^  " ^  *^  yo*"  fa«Jt-  Instead  of  training 
me  to  be  a  man  you  pandered  to  mfpoor  moX?! 

^^^^''^''''^  ^'^^^  ««J"ted  me^fn  the  streeTanS 
"^^^"'.^l^'  e"^f '°»  ^h«°  I  spoke  to  you  -" 

sit^'up'^.^Vo^vl-  hffa"  "*"^^P^^  ^?^-«- 
army?"  *   commission   in   the 

chuck^"   rvij£^^fif  ^'"'^^y-    "^°d   I've  been 

Sid  who  is  mo^^  m""""  °"*  ^'  «  ^°P«'^  ™"er. 
^u  wno  IS  moat  to  clame  —  you  or  I?    It's  you. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  105 

You've  brought  me  to  this  infernal  nlace     f™ 

ueceni  lout  1  m  ashamed  to  meet     XnA  ;»'=  ^1 
your  fadt.  and  now  you  have  itr         ^^  '' »  «" 

"th«  f«n.'f'  i"*'*"V .  ^^  PWneas  reproachfuUv 
and  mv  ^  "^kT^  ^?«  •»  »"««'  teneatfi  yo^^of 
and  my  humble  mUitary  rank,  render  it  d^^J 
for  me  to  make  an  appropriate  reply." 

Doggies  rage  had  spent  itself.    These  rnrP  fif« 
were  short-lived  and  lefThim  somewhaie^ed 

guest  A^^;/^°'''•  ^-7°"  ^^X'  youVe  my 
guest.  And  as  to  your  uniform,  6od  knows  I 
honour  every  man  who  wears  it."  ^ 

grlf  Sencf  ^Sl?^^  ^Ta^  ^  ^  ^-t 

Brwirh*'''"Kr'"\™^  a^relictioToTduS 
But  you  a  have  been  observmg  that  in  the  recent 
exposition  of  my  philosophy  f  have  not  laboS 
h^T  °i-,'^"*y  "^  disproportionate  exaggeS!^ 
shSl^  "V^  ?T'"'-  "'^  fingers  ^Lre  sik 
aha^.       I  m  glad  you  own  up.    It's  a  sign  of 

Koii^^r"  ^u  Phineas.  "No  man  is  altogether 
bad.  In  spite  ot  everything  I've  always  enter- 
tamed  a  warm  affection  for  you,  laddie  Zd  when 
otT  IZ^'^J'  bogies  jomid  about  the  lome 

&tefooTS;p7y.'^^^  ""* ""'  ^  ^°"- 

Doggie,  always  responsive  to  human  kindness 
was  touched.  lie  felt  a  note  of  sincei^^l^  mSi^s 
tone.  Perhaps  he  had  judged  him  ha^y  o^r! 
teu?'  ?W-'"  ^^'«°"«tion  which  ^cPhaSl 
naa  set  up  —  that  m  every  man  there  must  be  some 
flavmg  remnant  of  goodness. 


106 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


™.pi  uf™  *  ''"PPy-  Pluneas."  he  said.  "I  was  as 
mserable  an  outcast  as  could  be  found  in  Jn^oS^ 
and  when  a  feUow's  down  and  out.  you  mu^r  for' 

Uont  I  know.  laddie?  Don't  I  know?"  snH 
F^hineas  sympathetically.  He  reached  forThe  ci^^^ 
box-  Do  you  nund  if  I  take  another?  PerhaM 
mJ^ti;;^^^'•'™*'^'  ^^^^^^s  in  memory  of  S 

"&i^.rsSr5K^:L:^^  '^-'-'^ 

grater  comolimerto^m'^^^^  ho  J^  y  TpiS^e"'*? 
said  he,     than  by  taking  him  at  hw  woVdAt'w 

Phiii  ""*  "^"^  **•«*  ^'^«  ^^l^ed  you  for  advice, 

Mother   '^J^  ITJ^'L^'^^y  °''^°^to 

"  YoX  aTil'  for  ?H  "^    ^'"5^*^'    ««°tentiouslY. 

loure  asking  for  advice   and  consolation   from 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  107 

any  friendly  human  creature  to  whom  vou'rp  nnt 

Sna1d£..?P^^-    ^-'-  ^-^  -  a  "JXXl 

Doggie  roamed  about  the  room,  with  McPhail'a 

right  'h^eSdlf'^  °?  '^^  ^^'  PhiS  wal 
to  be  able  th^  iT  ^J^""  ™'^*  "^  ^'^  possessions 
tSr«l  ^  Mnlf^  later  dajrs,  to  pour  oithT  tor- 
tured soul  mto  sympathetic  ears.  But  shame  had 
kept  him.  stJl  kept  him,  would  always  S  £n 
K  -T  *^i  ^J"^  ^^°^  !>«  loved.  Yes  ptt 
had  said  the  diabolicaUy  right  thing  He^dd 
uot  be  ashamed  to  speak  to  Phineas     And  there 

witn  surprise.  How  easy  for  him,  in  resoonse  to 
bitter  accusation,  to  cast'the  blame  on  his  mother? 
He  hmiself  had  given  the  opening.  How  easy  for 
hmi  to  ppmt  to  his  predec^rf  short  tenS^e  of 
office  and  plead  the  alternative  of  carry W  out 
Mrs.  Trevor's  theory  of  education  or  ofi-^Lta* 
his  position  m  favour  of  same  sycophant  ev^S 
W^rving?  But  he  had  kept  silent  .  dS 
stopped  short  and  looked  at  Phineas  ^ithl^ 
dunAly  questioning  and  quivering  H™  ^^ 

Bhn^^^  'T  ^^  P"t  ^«  hands  on  the  boy's 
shoulders  and  said  very  gently  ^ 

JTell  me  aU  about  it,  laddie." 

then  Doggie  broke  down,  and  with  a  eush  of 

ummnded    tears   found   expression   for   his^sTonv 

mrk;„^!  '^F-"^^  «  f°"g  t™e  in  the  telS 
t^^tin  "i  ^  .^nterjectrng    an    occasional    syrapf- 

extracte^^fr^^  n^'*-  ^  f^^i^'^^^  ^""'^^  "JP^t^on 
tK,th™;t  f°°«^'*'  ^  ^^^'■^  ^as  to  tei,  from 
Bridge.  "^^  ^  ^^^^  """^^^  ™  Waterloo 

"And  now,"  cried  he,  at  last,  a  dismally  tramV 
figure,  his  young  face  distorted  and  reTKSs 
sleek  hau-  ruffled  from  the  back  into  unsiehUv 
perpendicularities  (an  invariable  sign  of  SaS 


108 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


loss  to  reply.    But  the  m^y  invo^ltiST  „f  Ln 
-unendurable."    He   beT^    to    JZ  ".1^°"  ^^ 

^oririar?  ^^^^tfyCiS^j 

ship  in  a  severe  schJJrof  Sw'  ^""^  «PP^«"t''=- 
the-"*'  ^  ^^^  ^«"."  cried  DogKie.  "but  what 


i 


THE  ROUGH  ROAE  109 

PWneas  waved  an  interrupting  hand.  "You've 
8«t  to  go  back,  laddie.  You've  got  to  whiSdl 
the  moral  courage  m  you  and  go  Lack  to  DuVdle- 
bury.  The  Dean,  with  his  influence,  and  theK 
you  have  shown  me  from  your  Colonel  can  easiW 
get  you  some  honourable  employmei  in  eith^ 
Service  not  so  exacting  as  the  one  which  you  ha^ 
recently  found  yourself  unable  to  perform  " 

r,r?'^T,  ""'T  "  n^^'y-JJRhted  cigarette  into  the 

lu-e  and  turned  passionately  on  McPhail 

„  .  I  won't.    Ypu're  talking  drivelling  rot.     I  can't 


I'd  sooner  die  than  go  back  there  with  my  taJbe*- 

'^Fnr  ^  fP-  .\  d  ^^ner  enlist  as  a  private  soldier/" 

bnlist?     said  Phmeas,  mid  he  (frew  himself  tin 

stra^ht  and  gaunt.    "WeU.  why  not?'^  ^ 

_  Enhst?"  echoed  Doggie  in  a  duU  tone. 

Have  you  never  contemplated  such  a  possibility?" 
^  tiood  God,  no  I    said  Doggie. 
"I  have  enlisted.    And  I  am"  a  man  of  ancient 
bneage  as  honourable,  so  as  not  to  enter  into^! 

nffrtf^fT^Tr^'-^"  y?H"-  And  I  am  a  Master 
of  Arts  of  the  two  Umversities  of  Glasgow  and  Cam- 
bridge. Yet  I  fail  to  find  anything  dishonou^X 
m  my  present  estate  as  33702  Private  Phineas 
McPhail  in  the  British  Army."  -mneas 

him  widl  ^™^  °°''  ^  **^"  *^"  "®  ^**'^  ■** 
''Enlist?" he  repeated.  "As  a  Tommy?" 
Even  as  a  Tommy."  said  Phineas.  He  glanced 
at  the  armolu  clock.  "It  is  past  one.  -fhTr^ 
spectable  widow  woman  near  the  Elephant  and 
Castle  who  has  let  me  a  bedroom,  wiU  be  worn  bv 
anxie.y  as  to  my  non-return.  Marmaduke,  my 
dear,  dear  laddie,  I  must  leave  you.  If  vou  wifl 
be  lunchmg  here  twelve  hours  hence,  notfing  will 
give  me  pater  pleasure  than  to  join  vou.  Laddie 
sw  *'tb     d"  '  ^°"  ''**"'**  manage  a  fri^  sole  and  a 


no 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


He  opened  the  door.    Phineas  shook  hands, 
tried  sole  and  a  sweetbread  at  one-thirty?" 
Of  course,  with  pleasure,"  said  Doggie. 

Phineas  fumbled  m  his  pockets. 

Doggie  drew  from  his  patent  notecase  a  sheaf  of 
P"«  Pound  and  Ten  Shilling  treasury  not^  and 
handedthem  over  to  McPhaU'l  vultu^clute^ 
Good-night,  laddie!" 

'Good-night." 

«I„^''1k^"I  *'?^^  """^y  '"^  **«  blackness.    Dogne 
shut  the  front  door  and  put  up  the  chain  and  w^? 

&hisCr.*^''""«-"^"-    H^^^oun^lTC™ 

"Enlist?    My  God  I" 

He  lit  a  cigarette  and  after  a  few  puiTs  flung  it 

^iiif.*"**.?-  u  "^  "*"***  «*  ^«  alternatives      * 
thght,  which  was  craven,— a  lifetime  of  self- 

hoS^rSfthTu^^'Cac^eS!^^^^        ^'^'^^' 


CHAPTER  IX 

AFTER  e  bath  and  a  change  and  breakfast 
?f^l^r!!'  «"t  for  one  of  L  soUt^  waS' 
have  kent  wSfS:.'"'^''  "^f^'  ^I  '''«^t  ^S 

far  worse  on  Salisbury  Plain  a„d  thl  ;r.„  ^  uf ' 
revfillA  ha,i  .ri>„„™„j  iT-'  r'nin,  ana  Uie  inexorable 
reveiue  Jiad  dragged  him  out  into  the  raw  drearffnl 
monung  heedless  of  his  headach.  J^d'yeaS 
had^bS.''   xSla!  ^^'  "^^  P'^^  of  hHeS 

SV^L""  SnZ  Ss  h^-rfe^Tt 
prpTexities  of  the  future  than  bVal^se^  rZ,^ 
;°:ifndi'gdoom     FortoPhineiMX?s-'K 
not?     he  had  been  able  to  give  no  answer     uL 
could  give  no  answer  now,  is  he  mSd  wSh 

me  the  meaning  of  it,  at  all?  "  ^  ^* 

Doggie  awoke  and  smiled. 
_  Do  you  like  it?" 
,"I  do,"  said  the  soldier. 
It  18  about  Peter  Pan.    A  kind  of  Fairy  T, ' 


112 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


You  can  see  the  'little  people'  peeping  out— I 
think  you  call  them  so  in  Ireland." 

"We  do  that,"  said  the  soldier. 

So  Doggie  sketched  the  outhne  of  the  immortal 
story  of  the  Boy  Who  Will  Never  Grow  Old,  and 
the  Irishman  Ustened  with  deep  interest. 

"Indeed,"  said  he  after  a  tmie,  "it  is  good  to 
come  back  to  the  true  things  after  the  things  out 
there."  He  waved  his  one  arm  in  the  vague  direction 
of  the  War. 

"Why  do  you  call  them  true  things?"  Doecie 
asked  quickly.  " 

They  turned  away   and   Doggie  found  himself 
sittmg  on  a  bench  by  the  man's  side. 
^^  "It's  not  me  that  can  tell  you  that,"  said  he, 
and  ray  wife  and  children  in  Galway." 

"Were  you  there  at  the  outbreak  of  war?" 

He  was.  A  Reservist  called  back  to  the  colours 
after  some  >  ears  of  retirement  from  the  army.  He 
had  served  m  India  and  South  Africa,  a  hard- 
bitten old  soldier,  proud  of  the  traditions  of  the  old 
Regiment.  There  were  scarcely  any  of  them  left 
—  and  that  was  all  that  was  left  of  him.  He  smiled 
cheerily.  Doggie  condoled  with  him  on  the  loss  of 
his  arm. 

"Ah  sure,"  he  repUed.  "And  it  might  keep  me 
out  of  a  fight  when  I  go  mto  Ballinasloe." 

''Who  would  you  want  to  fight?"  asked  Doggie. 

"Tlie  du-ty  Sinn  Feiners  that  do  be  always  shout- 
ing Freedom  for  Ireland  and  to  hell  with  freedom 
for  the  rest  of  the  world.'  If  I  haven't  lost  my 
arm  in  a  glorious  cause,  what  have  I  lost  it  for? 
Can  you  teU  me  that?" 

Doggie  agreed  that  he  had  fought  for  the  greater 
freedom  of  humanity  and  gave  him  a  cigarette, 
and  they  went  on  talking.  The  Irishman  had  been 
m  the  retreat  from  Mons,  the  first  battle  of  Ypres, 
and  he  had  lost  his  arm  in  no  battle  at  all;  just  a 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  113 

stray  shell  over  the  road  as  they  were  marchine 
back  to  bdlets.  They  discussed  trie  war,  the  eS 
of  hln^"^^!?  ^t'll/antfd  to  know  why  the  reahties 
ol  blood  and  mud  and  destruction  were  not  the 
true  things.     Gradually  he  found  that  the  Irish- 

ZfvJ^Tv!-  **'^*  *?^  *T  things  were  the  spiritual, 
undying  things;  that  the  grhn  realities  woiid  pass 
away;  that  from  these  dead  realities  would  arise 
the  noble  ideals  of  the  future  which  would  be  svin! 
bohsed  in  song  and  marble,  that  all  he  had  enddred 
and  sacrificed  was  but  a  part  of  the  Great  Sacrifice 
we  were  maWng  for  the  Freedom  of  the  World 
Being  a  man  roughly  educated  on  a  Galway  fami 

^f  .^^-  "^^^^V.  ••«??"*"''  h«  ^''^  F^«t  difficulty 
m  co^rdmating  his  ideas,  but  he  Ead  a  curious 
power  of  vision  that  enabled  him  to  pierce  to  the 

hf,lf  •^^''  ^^^fl^^  interpreted  according  to 
nis  untrained  sense  of  beauty. 

They  parted  with  expressions  of  mutual  esteem. 
Doggie  struck  across  tlie  gardens  with  a  view  to 
retimung  home  by  Kensington  High  Street  Pic- 
cadjUy  and  Shaftesbury  Avenn-  He  strwle  alone 
with  Ms  thoughts  fdled  with  the  Irish  soldier     Here 

Ti^.hl  U^k'  ""^'"^  \'  ^^  «"d  I'^t^  content  that 
It  should  be  so  who  had  reckoned  all  the  horrors 
through  which  he  had  passed  as  externals  unworthy 
ot  the  consideration  of  his  unconquerable  soul- 
a  man  simple,  unassumuig,  expansive  only  through 
his  Celtic  temperament,  which  allowed  him  to 
talk  easily  to  a  stranger  before  whom  his  English 
or  Scotch  comrade  would  have  been  dumb  and 
gaping  as  an  oyster,  obviously  brave,  sincere  and 
loyal.  Perhaps  something  even  higher.  Perhaps 
in  essence,  the  very  highest.  The  Poet  Warrior. 
Ihe  term  struck  Doggie's  braia  with  a  thud,  Uke 
the  explosive  fusion  of  two  elements. 

During  his  walk  to  Kensington  Gardens  a  poison- 
ous current  had  run  at  the  back  of  Ws  mind     Drift- 


114 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


ing  on  it,  might  he  not  escape?  Was  he  not  of  too 
fine  a  porcelain  to  mingle  with  the  coarse  and  common 
pottery  of  the  ranksP  Was  it  necessary  to  go  into 
the  thick  of  the  coarse  clay  vessels,  just  to  be  shat- 
tered? It  was  easy  for  Phineas  to  proclaim  that 
he  had  foimd  no  derogation  to  his  dign'''Y  as  a  man 
of  birth  and  a  University  graduate  i  identifying 
himself  with  his  fellow  privates.  Phineas  had  sys- 
tematically brutalised  himself  into  fitness  for  the 
position.  He  had  armed  himself  in  brass  —  aes 
triplex.  He  smiled  at  his  o^vn  wit.  But  he,  James 
Marmaduke  Trevor,  who  had  lived  his  life  as  a  clean 
gentleman,  was  in  a  category  apart. 

Now,  he  found  that  his  talk  with  the  Irishman 
had  been  an  antidote  to  the  poison.  He  felt 
ashamed.  Did  he  dare  set  himseu  up  to  be  finer 
clay  than  that  commion  soldier?  Spiritually,  was  he 
even  of  clay  as  fine?  In  a  Great  Judgment  of  Souls 
which  of  the  twain  would  be  among  the  Elect?  The 
ultra-refined  Mr.  Marmaduke  Trevor  of  Denby  Hall, 
or  the  ignorant  Poet  Warrior  of  Ballinasloe?  "Not 
Doggie  Trevor,"  he  said  between  his  teeth.  And 
he  went  home  in  a  chastened  spirit. 

Phineas  McPhail  appeared  punctually  at  half- 
past  one,  and  feasted  succulently  on  fried  sole  and 
sweetbread. 

"Laddie,"_  said  he,  "the  man  that  can  provide 
such  viands  is  a  Thing  of  Beauty  which,  as  the  poet 
says,  is  a  Joy  for  ever.  The  light  in  his  window  is 
a  beacon  to  the  hungry  Tommy  dragging  himself 
through  the  viscous  wilderness  of  regulation  stew." 

"I'm  afraid  it  won't  be  a  beacon  for  very  long," 
said  Doggie. 

"Eh?"  queried  Phineas  sharply.  "You'd  surely 
not  be  thinking  of  refusing  an  ola  friend  a  stray 
meal?" 

Doggie  coloured  at  the  coarseness  of  the  mis- 
uuders lauding.    "How  could  I  be  such  a  brute? 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  us 

^^t!^*  ^u^  ^  .^  "«^*  ™  t*>e  ^^dow  because  I 
Shan  t  be  here.    I'm  going  to  enlist." 

hi^tTstC  "^  '"^"^  °°  '^'  *^''  "^'^  ^^^^^^J 

"I  would  not  take  too  seriously  words  sooken  in 
tiie  heat  of  nudnight  revelry,  even  thoSiTe  revd 
was  conducted  on  the  gent^elest  princ^L     Have 

Crs«L^L£|pJ?«"^'  ^  '''  -f-d  "^r 
"Yes." 
"It's  a"  unco'  hard  life,  laddie." 

"ivi      j"^  ''™  '*^^"?  's  a  harder,"  said  Docme 
1  ve  made  up  my  mind."  '^oggje. 

•j^?°™^'^®  ''"^  piece  of  advice  to  eive  von  " 
8«d  McPhail.  "Sii^k  the  name  of  jCadS^'e 
which  would  only  stimulate  the  ignorantribK 
vL^^^/'r-  «°d  «dopt  the  name  of  Jame^wS 
your  godfather  and  godmother,  with  miracubus 
foresigk,  considering  tieir  limitations  hi  S^mS, 
of  coramon  sense,  have  given  you  " 

..  |P^*  .^  «  good  idea,"  said  Doggie. 
^,o-^  It  would  tend  to  the  obUteration  of  cl-sa 
prejudices  rf  you  gave  up  smoking  Turkish  cigarett^ 
at  ten  shilhngs  a  hundred  and  ^ivedia  yZlZ 
toon  as  an  amateur  of  'Woodbines  ' "  ^ 

^  I  can't  stand 'Woodbines,'"  said  Doggie. 

tntJTi.^.^;  ^^  '''™^  o'g^ra  is 'S  consti- 
tuted that  It  can  stand  the  sweepings  of  the  ell 
phante'  house  n  the  Zoologic/ G^-dens  TrT 
Tim  tune  it's  only  Woodbines.^'  ^' 

Doggie  took  one  from  the  crumpled  paoer  narkrt 
which  was  handed  to  him,  and  Ut  it^   HrXSeT^S 

"I  Znt  n  ^^%^^^^<^^ouv?"  asked  Phineas. 

Di:pnj«„vtith^iS'  ^-•"  -^^ 


*1 


116 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


A  few  days  later  the  Dean  received  a  letter  bear- 
ing the  pencilled  address  of  a  camp  on  the  South 
Coast,  and  written  by  35792  p'^  James  M.  Trevor, 
A  Company,  2/10  th  Wessex  Rangers.    It  ran: 

"/  hope  you  won't  think  it  heartless  of  me  to  have 
left  you  so  long  without  news  of  me;  but  until  lately  I 
had  t}ie  same  reasons  for  remaining  in  seclusion  as 
when  I  last  wrote.  Even  now  I'm  not  asking  for 
sympathy  or  reconsideration  of  my  failure  or  desire 
in  any  way  to  take  advantage  of  the  generosity  of  you  all. 
"I  have  enlisted  in  the  10th  Wessex.  Phineas 
McPhail,  whom  I  met  in  London  and  whose  character 
for  good  or  evil  I  can  belter  gauge  now  than  formerly, 
IS  a  private  in  the  same  battalion.  I  don't  pretend 
to  enjoy  the  life  any  more  than  I  could  enjov  living  in 
a  kraal  of  savages  in  Central  Africa.  But  that  is  a 
matter  of  no  account.  I  don't  propose  to  return  to 
Durdlebury  till  the  end  of  the  war.  I  left  it  as  an 
officer  and  I'm  ru>l  coming  back  as  a  private  soldier. 
I  enclose  a  cheque  for  £500.  Perhaps  Aunt  Sophia 
will  be  so  kind  as  to  use  the  money  —  it  ought  to  last 
some  time— for  the  general  upkeep,  wages,  etc.,  of 
Denby  Hall.  I  feel  sure  she  will  not  refuse  me  this 
favour.  Give  Peggy  my  love,  and  tell  her  I  hope  she 
will  accept  the  two-sealer  as  a  parting  gift.  It  will 
make  me  happier  to  know  that  she  is  driving  it. 

"  /  am  keeping  on  as  a  pied  a  terre  in  London  the 
Bloomsbiiry  rooms  in  which  I  have  been  living,  and 
I  ve  written  to  Peddle  to  see  about  making  them  more 
comfortable.  Please  ask  anybody  who  might  care  to 
write  to  address  me  as  'James  M.'  and  not  as  'Mar- 
maduke.' " 

The  Dean  i  ad  the  letter  —  the  family  were  at 
breakfast;  then  he  took  off  his  tortoise  shell  spec- 
tacles and  wiped  them. 

"It's  from  Marmaduke  at  last,"  sai'd  he.  "He 
has  carried  out  my  prophecy  and  enlisted." 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  in 

fJt^KIT''^^i?iH'^  ^'^""^  and  shot  out  her  hand 
for  the  lett,   ,  which  she  read  eagerly  and  then  pS 
over  to  her  mother     Mrs.  Conover  began  to  e^T 
for   hiin!"^  ^'  ^°y'    '^  *^  ^«  ^"'^  than  ever 

nth]!:  T^r  ^iP«8fy-     "But  I  think  it  splendid 

'^.^1  Vi.   P^^-T^  ^"^  ^''^S  himself  to  do  it?" 

Breed   teUs,"   said   the   Dean.    "That's  what 

br.?  Do'r '  Tv!''"^  ^"1^°"?-    He's  a  thorough! 

cop^?^ni!^'she^d'^^^*^^""y-  "You're  very 
r«7'^  must  knit  him  some  socks,"  observed  Mrs 
S^  ^^'-  '  I  h^a^jhose  supplied  to  the  kmyTe 
very  .ough  and  ready."  ' 

.^"^^    u?"*"'''   ^"^^  the  Dean,    "Marmaduke's 

fif^  }j  !^?  f^^  "^  °°e  »"^  twopence  a  day;  and  I 
should  think  he  would  have  the  sense  to  prov^e 
himself  witb  adequate  underclothing.  Also  iude! 
ing  from  the  account  of  your  shopping  or^^S 
don,  he  has  akeady  laid  in  a  stoct  tfiat  woi?d  k^t 
out  several  Antarctic  winters." 
The  Dean  tapped  his  egg  gently. 

his  5e°        *  ''^  ^^  **"  ^°'  *^  ^'  ^y- "  "^^^ 

.The  Dean  scooped  the  top  of  his  egg  oflf  with  a 
VICIOUS  thrust.  "^  * 

"We  can  cut  out  slanderous  tongues,"  said  he. 
l.ttli";';!^^  ^^^"  "'"''^  calumniating  cackle  in  the 
Mtle  town;  nay  more:  cackle  is  of  geese;  there 
had  been  venom  of  the  snaWest  kind,  fhe  Deanerv 
father  and  mother  and  daughter,  each  in  thel; 
several  ways,  had  suffered  greatly  It  is  hard  to 
stand  up  against  poisoned  ridicule 

My  -ear,"  continued  the  Dean,  "it  will  be  our 
busmess  to  smite  the  Philistines,  hip  and  thig" 


118 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


The  reasons  which  guided  Marmaduke  in  the 
reugnation  of  his  conunission  are  the  concern  of 
nobody.  The  fact  remains  that  Mr.  Marmadioke 
Irevor  resigned  his  conunission  in  order  to  — " 

Peg^  interrupted  him  with  a  atnile.    '"In  order 
to^  —  isn  t  that  a  bit  Jesuitical,  Daddy?" 

"I  have  a  great  respect  for  the  Jesuits,  my  dear," 
said  the  Dean,  holding  out  an  impressive  egg-spoon. 
Ihe  fact  remains,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  as  I 
remarked,  that  Mr.  Marmaduke  Trevor  of  Denby 
Hall,  a  man  of  fortune  and  high  position  in  the 
county,  resigned  his  commission  in  order,  for  reasons 
best  known  to  himself,  to  serve  his  country  more 
effectively  m  the  humbler  ranks  of  tlie  army,  and 
—  my  dear,  this  egg  is  far  too  full  for  war  time  — " 
with  a  hazardous  plunge  of  his  spoon  he  had  made 
a  yeUow  yelky  horror  of  the  egg-shell  —  "and  I'm 
going  to  proclaim  the  fact  far  and  wide  and  — 
mdeed  —  rub  it  in." 

'"niafU  be  jolly  decent  of  you.  Daddy,"  said  his 
daughter.    "  It  will  help  a  lot.'' 

In  the  failure  of  Marmaduke  to  retain  his  com- 
mission the  family  honour  had  not  been  concerned. 
Ihe  boy  had  done  his  best.  They  blamed  not  him 
but  the  disastrous  training  that  had  unfitted  him 
for  the  commmid  of  men.  They  reproached  them- 
selves tor  theu'  haste  in  throwing  him  headlong 
into  the  fiercest  element  of  the  national  strueHe 
towards  efficiency.  They  could  have  found  an 
easier  school,  m  which  he  could  have  learned  to  do 
his  share  creditably  in  the  national  work.  Many 
JiP'^^^i?'^"  °\  ^*'^""  acquaintance,  far  more  capable 
tnen  Marmaduke,  were  wearing  the  unifonn  of  a 
less  strenuous  branch  of  the  service.  It  had  been 
a  blunder,  a  failure,  but  without  loss  of  honour 
But  when  slanderous  tongues  attacked  poor  Doeeie 
for  runmng  away  with  a  vfilp  from  little  hardship; 
When  a  story  or  two  of  Doggie's  care     in  the  regi- 


m:,  I 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  119 

"^t'Si.J:'  Durdlebury,  highly  flavoured  in 
transit  and  more  and  mofe  poisoned  as  it  went 
from  mouth  to  mouth;  when  V  legend  was  soTead 
abroad  that  he  had  holted  from  SahsW  C 
and  was  run  to  earth  in  a  I'urkish  bath  to^ndr 
and  was  only  saved  from  court-martial  bvfS 
mfluence.  then  the  family  honour  of  the  ConS 
was  wounded  to  its  proud  EngLh  depths  Zd 
Jey  could  say  noti^.    Th^hJd  on&  Dogri?^ 

so,  and  listened  with  werbrTbcredSv  Tn 
S'd^?'- ^''^'^r  i  ^'  °°"  «°d  whSjgoiJg 
S.ejleSelS       '  """"'  "'''  "'''''*  ^-• 

TottKir '^^  *^^  -und^eiVll^aSK 
"hlloZV^o^  ri^?"  --  <»- •"  -<«  Nancy. 

to  hr/reftrsSTulS.  '*^"'=^*^  ^-^^  ''f  «  «W 

That  was  the  beginning  of  it.    Pesffv   natii™lI->. 

mSke:''  ^"^  '"■"  *^^  «^^*  and'^SdS'a 

l4^°^d NLrc^**'""^^  y°"  "^^«  «*"!  -'^ased  to 
.'.'^  '  ^™i."  declared  Peggy  rashly. 

"wT"    T   ^^®  ^°^  engagement  ring?" 
Where  I  choose  to  keep  it."  ^ 

Ihe  retort  lacked  originaUty  and  conviction, 
lou  cant  send  it  back  to  him    becausp  v™, 
don  t  know  where  he  is.    And  whTdiS  MTcon- 


120 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


M 


over  mean  by  telling  mother  that  Mr.  Trevor  had 

broken  oflf  the  engagement?" 

"She  never  told  her  any  such  thing,"  cried  Peggy 

naendaciously.    For  Mrs.  Conover  had  committed 

the  mdiscretion  under  assurance  of  silence. 

,   "P^don  me,"  said  Nancy,  much  on  her  dignity. 
Of  course  I  understand  your  denying  it.     It  isn't 

pleasant  to  be  thrown  over  by  any  man  —  but  by  a 

msm  hke  Doggie  Trevor  —  '*^ 
"You're  a  spiteful  beast,  Nancy,  and  I'll  never 

speak    to    you    again.    You've    neither    womanly 

decency  nor  Christian  feeling."    And  Peggy  marched 

out  of  the  doctor's  house. 
As  a  result  of  the  quarrel,  however,  she  resumed 

the  weanng  of  the  ring,  which  she  flaunted  defiantly 
with  left  hand  deliberately  ungloved.  Hitherto 
she  had  not  been  certain  of  the  continuance  of  the 
engagement.  Marmaduke'''  repudiation  was  defi- 
nite enough;  but  it  had  been  dictated  by  his  spnsi- 
tive  honour.  It  lay  with  her  to  agree  or  decfine. 
bhe  had  passed  through  wearisome  days  of  doubt. 
A  physically  souna  fighting  man  sent  about  his 
busmess  as  being  unfit  for  war  does  not  appear  a 
romantic  figure  in  a  girl's  eyes.  She  was  bitterly 
disappomted  with  Doggie  for  the  sudden  withering 
of  her  hopes.  Had  he  fulfilled  them  she  could  have 
loved  hun  whole-heartedly  after  the  simple  way  of 
women;  for  her  sex,  exhilarated  by  the  barbaiic 
convulsion  of  the  land,  clamoured  for  something 
heroic,  something,  at  least,  intensely  mascuUne, 
m  which  she  could  find  feminine  exultation.  She 
also  felt  resentment  a  I  his  flight  from  the  Savoy,  bis 
silence  and  practical  disappearance.  Although  not 
blaming  him  unjustly,  she  failed  to  realise  the 
spiritual  piteousness  of  this  plight.  If  the  war 
has  done  any  thing  in  this  country,  it  has  saved 
the  young  women  of  the  gentler  classes,  at  any 
rate,  from  the  abyss  of  sordid  and  cynical  material- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


121 


ism.  Hesitating  to  announce  the  rupture  of  the 
engagement,  she  aUowed  it  to  remain  in  a  state  of 
suspended  amraaUon  and  as  a  symbolic  act,  ceased 
to  wear  the  ring.    Nancy's  tamits  had  goaded  her 

she  ^owed  the  newly  rmged  hand  was  her  mother. 

the  engagement  istft  off  until  I   declare  it's 
oil.    1  m  gomg  to  play  the  game." 

'You  know  best,  dear.''  said  the  gentle  Mrs, 
Conover.     "But  it's  aU  very  upsetting.'^ 

Then  Doggie's  letter  brought  comfort  and  glad- 
ness to  the  Deanery.  It  rea.ssured  them  as  to  his 
■  .-r  i*  sealed  the  wounded  family  honour.  It 
justjfied  Peggy  in  playing  the  game. 

S>he  took  the  letter  round  to  Dr.  Mmdoch's  and 
thrust  It  into  the  hand  of  an  astonished  Nancy 
with  whom,  since  the  quarrel,  she  had  not  been  on 
speaking  terms. 

"This    is    in    Marmaduke's    handwritmg.    You 

fnwfT-f  "i-r  k""*  ''f  ^^^  ^P  •i"«  ^hen  I've 
^Ij^  '«V  ^  ^f^^  ^"^^t'^  '"  the  10th  Wessex.' 
fc.ee?  She  withdrew  the  letter.  "Now,  what 
could  a  man,  let  alone  an  honourable  gentleman, 

Jira^out'S^^""  ^^ '°'  "^'^'^^  -'•  ^-t'y 

Nancy,  who  had  regretted  the  loss  of  a  Ufelong 
Iriendship,  professed  her  sorrow. 

"The  least  you  can  do,  then,  is  to  go  round  and 
spread  the  news,  and  say  you've  seen  the  letter 
with  your  own  e^es. 

/To  several  others,  on  a  triumphant  ro-.ad  of 
visits,  did  she  show  the  vindicating  sentence.  Anv 
soft  young  fool,  she  asserted,  with  the  directness 
and  not  unattractive  truculence  of  her  generation 
can  get  a  commission  and  muddle  through,  but  it 
took  a  man  to  enlist  as  a  private  soldier. 

"Everybody  recognises  now,  darling."  said  the 
reconcUed  Nancy,  a  few  days  later,  "that  Doggie 


^_iz  H 


122 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


n  4 

■I 


u  a  top-hole,  splendid  chap.  But  I  think  I  ought 
to  tell  you  that  you're  all  boring  Durdlebury  stiff  " 

Pegffv  laughed.  It  was  good  to  be  engaeod  to 'a 
man  no  longer  under  a  cloud. 

"/(  will  all  come  riaht,  dear  old  Oiing,"  the  wrote  h 
iJoggie.  It  $  a  cinch,  as  the  Americant  tay.  You  u 
*oon  get  used  to  it  —  especially  if  you  can  realise  what 
It  means  to  me.  'Saving  face'  has  been  an  awful 
business.  Now  U's  all  over.  Of  course  I'll  accept 
the  two-seater.  I  ve  had  lessons  in  driving  since  you 
wen^  ««wy-/  W  thoughts  of  ^oing  out  to  France 

rzf  LV^^-  "*•  f" "•  i"'  '^'  *  W-^"'-  it^  present. 
Itl  love  the  ttvo-seater.    Swank  won't  be  the  word. 

fnii  "//^'j??'-^'  IS  all  rot.  The  engagement  stands 
and  all  Durdlebury  knows  ./..."  and  so  on.  and 
so  on.  She  set  herself  out,  honestly.  loyaUy.  to  be 
the  kindest  girl  in  the  world  to  Doggie.  Mrs 
Lonover  happened  to  come  into  the  drawing-room 
just  as  she  was  hcWng  the  stamp.  She  thumped  it 
on  the  envelope  with  her  pahn  and.  looking  round 
from  the  wntmg  desk  against  the  waU.  bowed 
Her  mother  a  flushed  and  smiUng  face. 

If  anybody  says  I'm  not  good  — the  goodest 
thing  the  Cathedral  has  turned  out  for  half-a-dozen 

so^keur         *^"  ^^'  ^°""'*^  ^^^^  °"*  ^™™  ****"■ 
"My  dearl"  cried  her  horrified  mother. 

Doggie  kept  the  letter  unopened  in  his  tunic 
pocket  until  he  could  find  soUtude  in  which  to  read 
It.  Alter  mormng  parade  he  wandered  to  the 
deserted  trench  at  the  end  of  the  camp,  where  the 
stuffed  sacks,  representing  (ierman  defenders,  were 
Hung  lor  bayonet  practise.  It  was  a  noon  of  grev 
mist  through  which  the  alignments  of  huts  and  tents 
were  barely  vivible.  Instinctively  avoiding  the 
wet  earth  of  the  parados,  he  went  round,  and.  tired 
alter  tlie  recent  spell  of  physical  drill,  sat  down 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


123 


on  the  eijuaLy  wet  sandbam  of  the  model  paraoel 
a  patheUc.  lonelv  little  khaki  figure,  isolitedTo; 
the  moment  by  the  kindly  mist  from  an  unoomore- 
hending  world.  ^ 

He  read  Peggy's  letter  several  times.  He  recog- 
nised her  goodness,  her  loyalty.  The  gratrfSl 
tears  even  came  to  his  eyes,  and  he  brushed  them 
away  hurriedly  rith  a  swift  look  round.    But  his 

r  u-.ju"^  ?°"®  ***®  ''**»'«'■•  A.  long-faded  memory 
ot  childhood  came  back  to  him  in  regained  colour 
Some  quarrel  with  Poggy.  What  it  was  all  about 
he  had  entn;ely  forgotten;  but  he  remembered  her 
attle  Hushed  face  and  her  angry  words-  "Well 
I  m  a  sp.  rt  and  you  ain't!"  He  remembered  also 
rebuking  her  priggishly  for  uninteUigible  languace 
and  mincing  away.  He  read  the  letter  again  in  the 
hght  of  this  flash  of  memory.  The  only  difference 
between  it  and  the  childish  speech  lay  in  the  fact 
that  instead  of  a  declaration  of  contrasts,  she  now 
uttered  a  declaration  of  simihtudes.  They  were 
both  sports."  There  she  was  wiong  boggie 
shook  his  head.  In  her  sense  of  the  word  he  was 
not  a  sport. '  A  sport  takes  chances,  plays  the 
game  with  a  smile  on  his  lips.  There  was  no  smile 
on  his.  He  loathed  the  game  with  a  sickening, 
shiveriiig  loathing.  He  was  engaged  in  it  because 
a  conglomeration  of  uresistible  forces  had  driven 
mm  into  the  mSlie.  It  never  occurred  to  Doegie 
that  he  was  under  orders  of  his  own  soul.  This 
siniple  yet  stupendous  fact  never  occurred  to  Peggy 

He  sat  on  the  wet  sandbags  and  thought  and 
thought.  Though  he  reproached  himself  for  base 
ingratitude,  the  letter  did  not  satisfy  him.  It  left 
his  heart  cold.  What  he  sought  in  it  he  did  not 
know.  It  was  something  he  could  not  find,  som&. 
thing  that  was  not  there.  The  sea  mist  thickened 
arouiid  him.  Peggy  seemed  very  far  away. 
He  was  still  engaged  to  her  —  for  it  would  be  mon- 


If 


i 


124 


THE  ROUGH   ROAD 


slroiM  to  persist  in  his  withdrawal.  He  must 
accept  the  situation  which  she  decreed.  He  owed 
that  to  her  loyalty.  But  how  lo  continue  the 
correspondence?  It  was  hard  enough  to  write 
from  Salisbury  Plain,  from  here  it  was  well  nijth 
impossiblr. 

thus  was  Doggie  brought  up  against  a  New 
Problem.  He  struggled  desperately  to  de'er  iu 
solution. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  regiments  of  the  new  armies  have  gathered 
into  their  rank  nnd  file  a  mixetl  crowd  tran- 
scending the  dreams  of  Democracy.  At  one 
end  of  the  social  scale  are  men  of  refined  minds  and 
gentle  nurture,  at  the  other  creatures  from  the 
slums,  with  slum  minds  and  morals,  and  between 
them  the  whole  social  gamut  is  run.  Experience 
seems  to  show  that  neither  of  the  extreme  elements 
tends,  in  the  one  case  to  elevate,  or,  in  the  other, 
t«  debase  the  battalion.  Leading  the  common 
life,  shoiing  the  common  hardships,  striving  towards 
common  ideals,  they  inevitably,  irresistibly  tend 
to  merge  themselves  in  the  average.  The  highest 
in  the  scale  sink,  the  lowest  rise.  The  process,  so 
far  as  the  change  of  soul  state  is  concerned,  is  inQ- 
nitely  more  to  he  ainelioration  of  tbo  1  ■•v,.„st  than 
to  the  degradation  of  the  highest.  'Ihe  one,  also, 
is  more  real,  the  other  more  apparent.  In  the  one 
case,  it  is  merely  the  shuffling  off  of  manners,  of 
habits,  of  prejudices  and  the  assuming  of  others 
horribly  distasteful  or  humorously  accepted  accord- 
ing to  temperament;  in  the  other  case,  it  is  an 
enforced  education.  And  all  the  congeries  of  human 
atoms  "lat  make  up  the  battalion,  learn  new  and 
precious  lessons  and  acquire  new  virtues  —  patience, 
obedience,  courage,  endurance.  .  .  .  But  from  the 
point  of  view  of  a  decorous  tea-party  in  a  cathedral 
town,  the  tone  —  or  the  standard  of  manners,  or 
whatever  you  woidd  like  by  way  of  definition  of 
that  vague  and  comforting  word  —  the  tone  of  the 
average  is  deplorably  low.  Tlie  hooligan  may  be 
kicked  for  excessive  foulness;   but  the  rider  of  the 

125 


126 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


high  horse  is  brutally  dragged  down  into  the  mire. 
The  curious  part  of  it  aU  t  that,  the  gutter  element 
being  ehmmated  altogether,  the  corporate  standard 
01  Uie  remainmg  majority  is  lower  than  the  stan- 
dard of  each  individual. 

By  developing  a  philosophical  disquisition  on 
some  such  hnes  did  Phmeas  McPhail  seA  to  initiate 
Doggie  mto  the  weird  mysteries  of  the  new  social 
We,  Doggie  heard  with  his  ears  but  thought  in 
terms  of  Durdlebury  tea-parties.  Nowhere  in  the 
mass  could  he  hnd  the  spiritual  oullcck  of  hh  Irish 
llr  k**?*-  V^'"""-    The   individuals   that   may   have 

m  ,    ,  '*■  ''^P*  '*■  preciously  to  themselves.    The  out- 

look, as  conveyed  in  speech,  was  grossly  material- 
I:  ^^^%    'rom  the  language  of  the  canteen  he  recoiled 

m  disgust.  He  could  not  reconcile  it  with  the 
nobler  attributes  of  the  users.  It  was  in  vain  for 
Phmeas  to  plead  that  he  must  .accept  the  lingua 
franca  of  the  British  Army  like  all  other  thin/^s 
I  appertammg   thereto.    Doggie's   stomach    revolted 

agaonst  most  of  the  other  things.    The  disregard 
(from  his  point  of  view)   of  personal   cleanUness 
universal  m  the  ranks,   filled  him   with   dismay. 
tven  on  Sahsburv  Plain  he  had  managed  to  get  a 
little  hot  water  for  his  morning  tub.    Hre    savo 
in  the  officers'  quarters,  curiously  remote   inacces- 
sible paradise!—  there  was  not  such  a  thing  as  a 
tub  m  the  place,  let  alone  hot  water  to  fill  it     The 
men  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  as  a  tub.    As 
a   matter  of  fact,   they  were  scrupulously   clean 
according  to  the  lights  of  the  British  Tommy;   but 
the  hghts  were  not  those  of  Marmaduke  Trevor 
lie  had  learned  the  supreme  wisdom  of  keeping 
lips  closed  on  such  matters  and  did  not  complain 
but  all  his  fastidiousness  rebelled.    He  hated  the 
slmce  of  head  and  shoulders  with  water  from  a 
bucket  m  the  raw  open  air.    His  hands  swell.,' 
bhstered,  and  cracJ-.ed;  and  his  nails,  once  so  be,u- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  127 

tifully  manicured,  grew  rich  black  rims,  and  all  the 
icy  water  m  the  buckets  would  not  remove  the 
grune. 

Now  and  then  he  veut  iaio  thi  town  and  had  a 
hrt  bath;  but  very  fe  •  of  the  .11?,  s  ever  seemed  to 
Junk  of  such  a  thm,„  The  ha  it  of  the  British 
Anny  of  gomg  to  bea  ii:  iu  ^lay  shirt  and  under- 
clothes was  pecuharly  repeUent.  Yet  Doggie  knew 
that  to  vary  from  the  sacred  ways  of  his  fefiow  men 
was  to  bring  disaster  on  his  head. 

Some  of  the  men  slept  under  canvas  still.  But 
Doggie,  fortunately  as  he  reckoned  (for  he  had 
begun  to  appreciate  fine  shades  in  misery)  was  put 
with  a  dozen  others  in  a  ramshackle  hut  of  wBch 
the  woodwork  had  warped  and  let  in  the  breezes 
above  below,  and  all  round  the  sides.  Doeeie 
though  dismaUy  cold,  welcomed  the  air  for  obviSus 
reasons.  They  were  fortunate,  too,  in  having 
straw  paillasses  —  recently  provided  when  it  was 
discovered  that  sleeping  on  badly  boarded  floors 
with  herce  draughts  blowing  upwards  along  human 
spines  was  strangely  fatal  to  human  bodies  — but 
Dcggie  found  his  bed  very  hard  lying.  And  it  smelt 
sour  and  sicUy.    For  nights,  in  spite  of  fatigue, 

jT  j"°*  ^^^P-  ^'^  ^^^^  8a°K  and  talked 
and  bandied  jests  and  sarcasms  of  esoteric  meaning, 
^me  of  the  recruits  from  factories  or  farms  satirist 
their  otticers  for  peculiarities  common  to  their 
social  caste,  and  gave  grotesque  imitations  of  their 
mode  of  speech.  Doggie  wondered  but  held  his 
peace.  The  deadly  stupidity  and  weariness  of  it 
aUI  And  when  the  talk  stopped  and  they  settled 
to  sleep,  the  snorings  and  mutterings  and  coughings 
began  and  kept  poor  Doggie  awake  most  of  the  nigh  t. 
I  be  uremediable,  intimate  propinquity  with  coarse 
humamty  oppressed  him.  He  would  have  given 
worlds  to  go  out,  even  into  the  pouring  rain,  and 
walk  about  the  camp  or  sleep  under  a  hedge,  so 


m 


m 
m 


m 


I  'f 


4 


128  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

long  as  he  could  be  alone.  And  he  would  think 
longingly  of  his  satin-wood  bedroom,  with  its 
luxurious  bed  and  lavender-scented  sheets,  and  of 
lus  beloved  peacock  and  ivory  room  and  its  pictures 
and  exquisite  furniture  and  the  great  fire  roarine 
up  the  chunney,  and  devise  intricate  tortures  for 
the  Kaiser  who  had  dragged  him  down  to  this 
squalour. 

The  meals  — the  rough  cookmg,   the  primitive 

T'U'^^J^^^  manners   of  his   companions, 

offended  his  dehcate  senses.    He  missed  napkins. 

wftrtl,^^  bHK™#  'T'f  *°  *'P«  his  mouth 
with  the  back  of  his  hand  and  the  back  of  his  hand 
on  the  seal  of  his  trousers.  Nor  could  he  watch  wi  th 
equanmuty  an  honest  soul  pick  his  teeth  with  his 
httle  finger.  But  Doggie  knew  that  acquiescence 
was  the  way  of  happiness  and  protest  the  way  of 

At  first  he  made  few  acquaintances  beyond  those 
with  whom  he  was  intimately  associated.  It  seemed 
more  politic  to  obey  his  in.  .incts  and  remain  un- 
obtrusive in  company  and  drift  away  inoffensively 
when  the  chance  occurred.  One  of  the  men  with 
whom  he  talked  occasionally  was  a  red-headed 
httie  cockney  by  the  name  of  Shendish.  For  some 
reason  or  other  —  perhaps  because  his  name  con- 
veyed a  perfectly  wrong  suggestion  of  the  Hebraic 
—  he  was  always  called  "Mo^'  Shendish. 

Don  t  yer  wish  yer  was  back,  mate.»"  he  asked 
one  day  havmg  waited  to  speak  tiU  Doggie  had 
addressed  and  stamped  a  letter  which  he  was  writins 
at  the  end  of  the  canteen  table. 

''Where.3"  said  Doggie. 

•ij?^^'  f^®^*  ,'°"'^-  ^°  **>«  family  castle,  where 
glided  footmen  anas  sausage  and  mash  about  on 
*rays  and  quarts  of  beer  all  day  long.     I  do." 

"You're  a  lucky  chap  to  have  a   castle,"  said 
Doggie. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  129 

Mo  Shendisli  grinned.    He  showed  little  yellow 
teeth  beneath  a  little  red  moustache, 
c/ ^^«*,'^  got  one,"  said  he.    "It's  in  Mare 
Street,  ilackney.    I  wish  I  was  there  now." 

He  sighed,  and  in  an  abstracted  way  he  took  a 
baJi-smoked  cigarette  from  behind  his  ear  and  relit  it 

Wuat  were  yer  before  yer  joined?  Yer  look 
hke  a  clerk.  He  pronounced  it  as  if  it  were  spelt 
with  a     u. 

''Something  of  the  sort,"  replied  Doggie  cautiously. 

One  can  always  tell  you  eddicated  blokes. 
Makmg  your  five  quid  a  week  easy,  I  suppose?" 

About  that,"  said  Doggie.     ''^What  were  you?" 

I  was  making  my  thirty  bob  a  week  regular. 
I  was  m  the  fish  business,  I  was.  And  now  I'm 
serving  my  ruddy  country  at  one  and  twopence  a 
daif.    Funny  life,  ain't  it?" 

.''I  can't  say  it's  very  enjoyable,"  said  Doggie. 

Not  the  same  as  sitting  in  a  snug  oriis  all  day 
with  a  pen  in  your  lilywhite  'and,  and  going  'ome 
to  your  igh  tea  in  a  top  'at.    What  made  you  join 

"The  force  of  circumstances,"  said  Doggie. 

"Same  'ere,"  said  Mo;  "only  I  couldn't  put  it 
into  such  '"ancy  language.  First  my  pals  went 
out  one  after  the  other.  Then  the  gels  began  to 
look  saucy  ;  t  me,  ai!d  at  last  one  particular  bit  of 
skut  what  I'd  been  walkmg  out  with,  took  to  prome- 
nadmg  with  a  blighter  in  khaki.  It'd  have  been 
silly  of  me  to  go  and  knock  his  'ead  off,  so  I  enlisted. 
And  It  s  all  right  now." 

"Just  the  same  sort  of  thing  in  my  case,"  replied 
Doggie.  "I'm  glad  things  are  right  with  the  young 
lady. 

'  First  class.  She's  straight,  she  is,  and  no  mis- 
take abaht  it.    She's  a — " 

He  paused  for  a  word  to  express  the  inexpressive 
she. 


130 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


i,-ItA??I!^^°"~?  peach?"  — Doggie  coiracted 
himself.    Then,  as  the  sudden  frown  of  perplexed 

he  was  struck  by  a  bright  idea. 

^  What's  her  name? 

''Aggie.    What's  yours?" 

"Gladys,"  replied  Doggie  with  miraculous  readi- 
ness of  mvention. 

"I've  got  her  photograph,"  Shendish  confided  in 
a  whisper  mid  kid  his  hand  on  his  tunic  pocket. 
Ihen  he  looked  round  at  the  half-filled  canteen  to 
see  that  he  was  unobserved.  "You  won't  give  me 
away  if  I  show  it  yer,  will  yer? "  e    -=  '"c 

Doggie  swore  secrecy.  The  photograph  of  Aireie 
an  angular,  square-browed  damsel,  who  look^^as 
Uiough  she  could  gmde  the  most  recalcitrant  of 
fishmongers  into  the  paths  of  duty,  was  produced 
and  thrust  mto  Doggie's  hand.  He  ins^cted  it 
ri?  ?«^tf.  appreciation,  while  his  red-headed  friend 
regarded  hun  with  fatuous  anxiety. 

Charmingl     charmmg!"    said    Doggie    in    his 
pleasantest  way.    "WTiat's  her  colouring" 

Fair  hair  and  blue  eyes,"  said  Shendish. 
f.Z^fi       ^^  question,  half  idle  yet  unconsciously 
tactM,  was  one  of  those  human  things  which  cost 

fTien?for%"'  '"'''^  ^  '°"''^-  ''  ^ave  Doggie  a 
"Mo,"  said  he,  a  day  or  two  later,  "you're  such  a 
feSuIger^'  ^  ^'^  ^°"  "^  sic/abon^'aSle 
"Gawd  knows,"  smiled  Mo,  unabashed.  "I 
suppose  It's  friendly  like."  He  wrinkled  hh  brow 
m  iJiought  for  an  mstant.  "That's  where  I  think 
you  re  making  a  mistake,  old  pal,  if  you  don't  mind 

J^L^  i'^'T*^*-  ^  ^°^  ^^«t  y^  "e,  but  the 
others  don  t.  You're  not  friendly  enough.  See 
whatlmean^  Supposin' you  say  as\ou  wfdd  inl 
city    rcstoo-ang    when    you're    'aving    yer    lunch. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


131 


ct  !i  ^If  .'""'"J^  P^  ™«  *•»«  salt?' -well,  that's 
stand-offish -they  say  'Come  off  iti'  But  if 
you  look  about  and  say,  'Where's  the  b. .  y  salt?' 
hat^u™^  ^"  """^^  understand.  They  chuck 
cuft^^  ^°«g'«'  "It's  very  — I  mean  b. .  .y  — diffi- 

So  he  tried  to  be  friendly;  and  if  he  met  with  no 
great  positive  success,  he  at  least  escaped  animosity 
In  his  spare  time  he  mooned  about  by  himself,  shv 
disgusted,  and  miserable.  Once,  when  a  fToup  of 
men  were  kicking  a  football  about,  the  baU  rolled 
his  way.  Instead  of  kicking  it  back  to  the  expec- 
tant players,  he  picked  it  up  and  advanced  to  the 
nearest  man  and  handed  it  to  him  poUtely. 

Thanks,  mate,"  said  the  astonished  man,  "but 
why  didn  t  you  kick  it?" 

He  turned  away  without  waiting  for  a  reply. 
Doggie  had  not  kicked  it  because  he  had  never 
kicked  a  football  in  his  life,  and  shrank  from  an 
exhibition  of  incompetence. 

At  drills  things  were  easier  than  on  Salisbury 
Flam  his  actions  being  veiled  in  the  obscurity  of 
sijuad  or  platoon  or  company.  Many  others  besides 
iumseU  were  cursed  by  sergeants  and  rated  by  sub- 
alterns and  drastically  entreated  by  captains.  He 
had  the  consolation  of  community  m  suffering 
As  a  trembhng  officer  he  had  been  the  only  one 
the  only  one  marked  and  labelled  as  a  freak  part 
the  only  one  stuck  in  the  eternal  pillory.  Here 
were  fools  and  incapables  even  w  .j  dull  and  in- 
fective than  he.  A  ploughboy  feUow-recruit  from 
JJorsetshire,  Pugsley  by  name,  did  not  know  right 
from  left,  and  having  mastered  the  art  of  fomung 
lours,  could  not  get  into  his  brain  the  reveree  process 
ol  tormmg  front.  He  wept  under  the  lash  of  the 
corporals  tongue,  and  to  Dog<ne  these  t«ars  were 
healing  dews  of  Heaven's  disSlation.    By  degrees 


132 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


he  learned  the  many  arts  of  war  as  taught  to  the 
pnvate  soldier  in  England.  He  could  r^^  frS 
shutting  his  eyes  when  he  pressed  tlie  triwer  S 
his  rifle,  but  to  the  end  of  iL  career  his  shootinJ 
was  en-atic.  He  could  perform  with  Ihe  weaSf 
the  other  tncks  of  precision.  Uneucun^er^i^e 
could  march  with  the  best.  The  torZ^^  the 
heavy  pack  nearly  killed  him;  but  m  time  as  Ws 
muscles  developed,  he  was  able  to  slog  atong  Zdll 
the  burden.  He  even  learned  to  dii  That  w^ 
the  worst  and  most  back-breaking  art  of  all 

Now   and   then   Phineas   McPhail   and' himself 
would  get  together  and  walk  into  the  Me  Sde 

toZk  ^t'^"^  "l''^*'^^  ^*'«^°°'  «"^  there  wStle 
to  look  at  save  the  deserted  shops  and  the  squafl! 
fretted  pier  and  the  maidens  of  the  place,  who  usuX 
were  m  company  with  lads  in  kiaU.    Sometimes 

glance  of  shy  invitation,  for  Doggie  in  his  short 

hSelf^'Sl.r'/^*  "•  »^«d>'^n|^feUow,  carjtog 
hunself  weU  and  wearmg  his  uniform  with  instinc- 
tive grace.  But  the  dai^sel  ogled  in  vaL 
"  W-hf  r*"^*  "^'^asion  Phineas  burst  into  a  gufl^aw. 
vVhy  don  t  you  talk  to  the  poor  body?  She's 
a  respectable  girl  enough.    Whereas  the  haAn?  " 

l^p     square-pushing'?"  said  Dogsiu  contemn- 
tuoudy,  usmg  the  soldiers'  slang  for  walki^7ab^P^ 
vilh  a  young  woman.     "No,  thank  you."     * '"'""'^ 
And  why  not?    I'm  not  counseUing  you,  laddie 

^wte'  """•  ^  '?r"  °f  ««°«"«1  JebaucheiV.    But 
a  wee  bit  gossip  with  a  pretty,  innocent  girl  -" 

"what^ontHh,rt  fvfP'    •  ^°^g'«    interrupted. 
^•Youth^^  common  with  her?" 

;;i  feel  as  old  as  hell,"  said  Doggie  bitterly. 

"«nH  «kT.  ^  P^^5  °''*®^  ^°o°'"   said  Phineas, 

and  able  to  look  down  on  hell  with  feelingo  of 

supenomy.  •  -"^"^-  "i 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


133 


in  silence  for  a  few  paces. 


„|ie  walked  on 
Then  he  said: 

"A  thing  I  can't  understand  is  this  mania  for 
pickmg  up  girls  — just  to  walk  about  the  streets 
with  them.    It's  so  inane.    It's  a  disease." 

"Did  you  evei  consider,"  said  Phineas,  "how  in 
a  station  less  exalted  than  that  which  you  used  to 
adorn,  the  young  of  opposite  sexes  manage  to  meet, 
select  and  marry?  Man,  the  British  Armv's  going 
to  be  a  grand  education  for  you  in  sociology!" 

"Well,  at  any  rate  you  don't  suppose  I'm  going 
to  select  and  marry  out  of  the  street?  ' 

"You  might  do  worse,"  said  Phineas.  Then, 
alter  a  shght  pause  he  asked:  "Have  you  any  news 
lately  from  Durdlebury  ?  " 
"Confound  Dm-dlebury!"  said  Doggie. 
Phineas  checked  him  with  one  hand  and  waved 
the  other  towards  a  hostelry  on  the  other  side  of 
the  street.  "If  you  will  give  me  the  money  in 
advance,  so  as  to  evade  the  ungenerous  spirit  of 
the  no-treating  law,  you  can  stand  me  a  quart  of 
ale  at  the  Crown  and  Sceptre  and  join  me  in  drink- 
mg  to  its  confusion." 

So  they  entered  the  saloon  bar  of  the  public 
house,  and  Doggie  drank  a  glass  of  beer  while 
Phineas  swallowed  a  couple  of  pints.  Two  or 
n  ^1.?'^^''  S'^'diers  were  there,  in  whose  artless 
talk  McPhad  joined  lustUy.  Doggie,  unobtrusive 
at  the  end  of  the  bar,  maintained  a  desultory  and 
uncomfortable  conversation  with  the  barmaid,  who 
was  of  the  florid  and  hearty  type,  about  the  weather, 
borne  days  later,  McPhail  again  made  allusion  to 
Durdlebury.     Doggie  again  confounded  it. 

I  don  t  want  to  hear  of  it  or  think  of  it,"  he 
exclaimed,  m  his  nervous  way,  "urtil  this  filthy 
horror  is  over.  They  want  me  to  get  leave  and  go 
down  Md  stay.  They're  making  my  life  miserable 
with  kmdness.    I  wish  they'd  let  me  alone.    They 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


-J 
fl 


134 

.      \™,  sorry  I  persuaded  you  to  ioin  a  n.inmo„t 

Dogpe  threw  out  an  impatient  arm  "Oh 
you  don't  count,"  said  he.  "'"• 

A  few  minutes  afterwards,  repenting  his  hni«- 
^rZ^'  S  *r^'r  *«  P&  why  he  dS 
PhLSew'Jv'e.^Sin'g'"^"  "^^^  ^-»  ''-• 

fi^htuan^wllkrw^VSri^R^^ 

•nn^K  Mason's  pottiS  sfirimj^^nd  ^vi^Te^?^ 
Do^e's^tS"^.?'^-^    ^^'    ^    """"-^    ^-- 

tei=er?oSrv^e^^wri--;s 
^^s£;KetJSt£&^-: 

??p;i.e  ^w?;  sS^  ^o.g'^ptt  'S 

StItL" "  Me?h  d^H,^'  *^  bookstaffat'CVK 
^^  !l  "■  1  •  ?"  huddled  up  near  him,  their  heads 
on  their  kit  bags,  slept  anS  snored.    DoS^ataoS 

On^thTF  Pf"  ^'^  '^"'^  ^^  h«t^«J  ofTe  Sf 
On  the  East  coa.t  much  the  same  hfe  as  01^6 
South,  save  that  the  wind,  as  if  Hun-sent  foimd 
Its  way  more  savagely  to  the  skin.  '      ^'^ 

Ihen  snddeidy  came  the  news  of  a  laree  draft 
for  France,    which    included    both    Mcffi  l?d 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  135 

n^'^\  V^^  J"®"'  .«^«y  «n  Jeave.  The  glad- 
iZJ'i:  "^'^  ^^  welcomed  their  return  showwl 
Doggie  how  great  a  part  they  played  in  his  new 

K-.u^°  "  i^l  °'"  **°  *  'ey  vroulcTdepart  God  knew 
whither  and  he  would  be  left  in  dreadful  to^lbej 
Though  him  l^e  tw.  men,  the  sentimental  cXfy 
S^°Zk  ??"*  'i'7f''^^  ^'"''"^te  of  Gla^ow 
^l  .X"°*",^^^.'  *'^«'  ^«««me  friends.  He  swnt 
with  them  all  his  leisure  time.  ^ 

MrPhrnT  f -1*^  f^y  tragi-comedies  of  life  occurred. 
McPhaU  got  drunk  m  the  crowded  bar  of  a  UtUe 
pubhc  house  in  the  village.  It  was  the  last  j^ssMe 
drmk  together  of  the  draft  and  their  pal^  T^e 
draft  was  to  entrain  before  daybreak  on  the  moirow 
MnP^-i  ™h:  suig^g.  shouting  khaki  throng. 
McPhail,  who  had  borrowed  ten  pouHds  from  Doggii 

wT  /u.TJ'i!?  ^^P"?*"  "•«  hardships  of  the 
front,  estabhshed  bmself  cfose  by  the  bar^d  was 
cbmkmg  whisky.  He  was  also  distributing  sT 
reptitious  sucpences  and  shiUings  into  eager  hands 
ri  t  '"''n'^  convert  them  into  alcohol  for  eager 
tbroate.    Dcwgie,  anxious,  stood  by  his  side.    The 

mounted  to  his  unaccustomed  brain.  He  beeM 
to  hector,  and,  mu,.er  of  picturesque  speech,  he 
coinpeUed  an  adnuring  audiW.  Boggie  did  not 
reahse  the  extent  of  his  drunkenness  untU,  vamitS 
himself  as  a  Scot  and  therefore  the  salt  of  tie  aZf 
he  pick^  a  quarrel  with  a  stolid  Hampshire  giait 
who  professed  to  have  no  use  for  Phineas's  feUow- 
countrymen.  The  men  closed.  Suddenly  some- 
one shouted  from  the  doorway 

doi^S'thfrL!""  '"^'     ^^  ^-  P-  ^'«  ^^^ 

hoir**"*!  *H*^'?*^*  ^^<«*  Marshal,  if  he  heard 
hell  s  delight  going  on  m  a  tavern,  would  naturallv 
ma^c  an  mquisiloiial  appearance.  The  combat- 
ants   were    separated.    INfcPhail   threw  a   shilhng 


136 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


i;     i 


on  the  bar  counter  and  demanded  another  whisky 
He  was  about  U>  lift  the  glass  to  his  lip^  when  Domie 
teiTined  as  to  wbit  might  happen,  knoclied  the  gfas^ 
out  of  his  hand.  " 

"Don't  be  an  ass,"  he  cried. 
„,.^i}^fa\^«s  very  drunk.  He  ^azed  at  his  old 
pupil,  took  off  his  cap  and,  stretching  over  the  bar 
hung  It  on  the  handle  of  a  beer-pull;  then,  stagger- 
ing t)ack,  he  pointed  an  accusing  finger, 
ui- "i^^  ^^^  '"®  .udacity  to  call  me  an  ass.  Little 
blinking  Marmaduke  Doggie  Trevor.  Little  Doggie 
Trevor  whom  I  trained  up  from  infancy  in  the  wav 
he  sliouldn  t  go  —  ' 

"VVhy  Doggie  Trevor?"  someone  shouted  in 
enquiry. 

'  Never  mind,"  replied  Phineas  with  drunken 
unpressiveness.  "My  old  friend  Marmaduke  has 
SDilled  my  wliisk)  nnd  called  me  an  ass.     I  caU  him 

S.T^'bil'fu^'ip'?'^  '^'■^^°^-  You  all  bear  witness 
he  knocked  the  drmk  out  of  my  mouth.  I'll  never 
forgive  him.  He  doesn't  like  being  caUed  Doeeie 
rii  u  i-''?"°T:"°  Pred'lex'n  to  be  called  an  ms. 
1 11  be  thinking  I  m  going  just  to  strangle  him." 

He  struck  out  his  bony  claws  towards  the  shrink- 
ing Doggie;  but  stout  arms  closed  round  him  and  a 
horny  hand  was  ciamped  over  his  mouth,  and  thev 
got  hun  through  the  bar  and  the  back  parlour  into 
the  ywd,  where  they  pumped  water  on  his  head. 
And  when  the  A.  P- M.  and  his  satellites  passed  by, 
the  qmet  of  The  Whip  m  Hand  was  the  holy  peace 
of  a  nunnery.  ''  ^'^'-'^ 

Doggie  and  Mo  Shendish  and  a  few  other  staunch 
souls  got  McPhail  back  to  quarters  without  much 
trouble  On  parting,  the  delinquent,  semi-sobered, 
shook  Doggie  by  the  hand  and  smiled  with  an  ai^ 
ot  great  affection. 

"I've  been  verra  drunk,  laddie.  And  I've  been 
angry  with  you  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.    But 


THE ■ROUGH  ROAD 


137 


when  you  knocked  the  glass  out  of  my  hand  I 
thought  you  were  in  danger  of  losing  your  good 
manners  m  the  army.  Well  have  many  a  pow-wow 
together  when  you  loin  me  out  there." 

The  matter  would  have  drifted  out  of  Doggie's 
mind  as  one  of  no  importance,  had  not  the  detested 
appellation  by  which  Phineas  hailed  liim  struck  the 
miaginalion  of  his  conu'ades.  It  filled  a  long-felt 
want,  no  nickname  for  Private  J.  M.  Trevor  having 
yet  been  invented.  Doggie  Trevor  he  was  and 
Doggie  Trevor  he  remained  for  the  rest  of  his  period 
of  service.  He  resigned  himself  to  the  inevitable. 
The  stiu^  had  gone  out  of  the  name  through  his 
comrades  ignorance  of  its  origin.  But  he  loathed 
it  as  much  as  ever;  it  sounded  in  his  ears  an  ever- 
lasting reproach. 

In  spite  of  the  ill  turn  done  in  drunkenness,  Doggie 
missed  McPhail.  He  missed  Mo  Shendish,  his  more 
constant  companion,  even  more.  Their  place  was 
in  some  degree  taken,  or  rather  usurped.  Tor  it  was 
without  Doggie's  volition,  by  "Tafiy"  Jones,  once 
clerk  to  a  firm  of  outside  bookmakers.  As  Doggie 
had  never  seen  a  race-course,  had  never  made  a 
bet,  and  was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  names  even 
of  famous  Derby  winners,  Taffy  regarded  him  as  an 
astonishing  freak  worth  the  attention  of  a  student 
of  human  nature.  He  began  to  cultivate  Doggie's 
virgin  mind  by  aid  of  reminiscence,  and  of  such 
racmg  news  as  was  to  be  found  in  the  Sportsman. 
He  was  a  garrulous  person  and  Doggie  a  good 
listener.  To  please  him  Doggie  backed  horses, 
through  the  old  firm,  for  small  sums.  The  fact  of 
his  being  a  man  of  large  independent  means  both 
he  and  Phineas  (to  his  credit)  had  kept  a  close  secret, 
his  clerkly  origm  divined  and  promulgated  by  Mo 
Shendish  being  unquestioningly  accepted,  so  the 
hets  proposed  by  Taffy  were  of  a  modest  nature. 
Once  he  brought  off  a  forty  to  one  chance.    Taffy 


138 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


rushed  to  hup  with  the  news,  dancing  with  excite- 
ment.     Doggie's  stoical  indilFerence  to  the  wbS^S 
of  twenty  pounds,  a  year's  army  pay    gavH^ 
cause  for  great  wonder.    As  Dog^e  XW^  smSS 
equanimity  when  he  lost,  Taffy  |ut  hi^  dlwHs" 
^ZXT^-    ""^  '^^^  'to^admire'^Sr  t^ 
This  friendship  with  Taffy  is  worth  special  record 
for  It  was  mdirectly  the  cause  of  a  little  revoS 
m  Doggies  regimental  life.     Taffy  was  an  earnest 
hough  indifferent  performer  on  tL  l^imy  Se 
It  was  his  constant  companion,  the  soTace  of  iS 
leisure  momenU  and  one  of  the  minor  tortu^es^ 
Dc^gie's  existence.     His  version  of  the  WarS,2 
was  peculiarly  excruciating.  '»un,eiuai»e 

variat'io1,?nf  h"  '^«ffy  ^««  PJaying  it  with  dreadful 
varmions  of  h«  own  to  an,  admiring  group  m  the 

raw  hv  ;h«f»r'  J'^^'  ^i^  ""^^^  '■a^Ped  ««  the 
raw  by  the  false  notes  and  maddenintr  intervals 

^If  ^rtK  T  ""i^,  ^^"•1  «°d  began  ?o  ^lay  W 
S  ;„t  w^"^'  ^J^i^king  morbidl/from  L/ fom 
of  notoriety,  he  had  shown  no  si^  of  mST 
comi)li8hment.    But  to-day  the  musiciaS^SiJ^ 

one  there  had  heard  it  on  penny  whistle  before 
The  hut  recogmsed  a  master's  touct,  for  Doggte  Wm 

w^rro'L^-'VTT"-  n^^"  '^^  BtoppKe^ 
W  ^  i^-  ..-^'^  .?,"'  doggie  went  on.  Thev 
kept  him  whisthng  till  the  hut  was  crowded  ^ 

1  henceforward  he  was  penny-whistler  bv  ex- 
ceUence  to  the  battalion.*^  He  whistled  hL^ff 
into  qmte  a  useful  popularity  aaaaeu 


CHAPTER  XI 

T^T^^?  ^  ^S^  P""""**  of  you.  Maimaduke." 
YY    said  the  Dean. 

'  '  "I  think  you're  ju8t  splendid,"  said  Peifjrv. 
They  were  sitting  in  Doggie's  rooms  in  Wobuni 
Mace.  Doggie  having  been  given  his  three  days' 
leave  before  going  to  France.  Once  again  Durdle- 
bury  had  come  to  Doggie  and  not  Doggie  to  Durdle- 
bury.  Aunt  Sophia,  however,  somewhat  ailing, 
had  stayed  at  home.  " 

Doggie  stood  awkwardly  before  them,  conscious 
of  swollen  hands  and  broken  naUs,  shapeless  ammu- 
mtion  boots  and  il  -fitting  slacks,  morbidly  conscious, 
too,  ot  his  original  failure. 

"You're  about  ten  inches  more  round  the  chest 
than  you  were,    said  the  Dean  admiringly. 
And  the  picture  of  health,"  cried  Peggy. 
For  aiiyone   who  has  a  sound   coiistituUon," 
answered  Doggie,  "  it  is  quite  a  healthy  life." 

Now  that  you've  got  into  the  way,  I'm  sure 
you  must  reaUy  love  it,"  said  Peggy  with  an  en- 
couragmg  smile. 
"It  isn't  so  bad,"  he  replied. 
"What  none  of  us  can  -juite  understand,  my  dear 
feUow,  said  the  Dean,  "is  your  shying  at  Durdle- 
bury.  As  we  have  written  you,  everybody's  sing- 
ing your  praises.  Not  a  soul  but  would  have  riven 
you  a  heart'  welcome." 

"Besides  Peggy  chimed  in,  "you  needn't  have 
made  an  exh-hition  of  yourself  in  the  io«  if  vou 
didnt  want  to.  The  poor  Peddles  are  woefuUy 
disappomted.  ' 

139 


140 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


<    ! 


hZ.,,fitTu  '™™.  tfe  Peddles,  Uiere^s  your  own 
beautaf,^  house  waiUng  for  vou.  It  seems^so  i^y 
l^pS^"  '  "^^"^  o/ moping  in  these  C? 

'Perhaps,"  said  Doggie  quietly,  "if  I  went  there 
1  should  never  want  to  come  back/' 

of  Sw  "'  f h^n^  ^^  *^  ^^  *«»°  *at  point 
ol  view,  the  Dean  admitted.  "A  solution  of 
«.ntmmty  IS  never  quite  without  its  dangers  Fv°n 
Ohver  confessed  as  much."  "^"b,    even 

"Oliver?" 

.'.768,  didn't  Peggy  teU  you?" 
1  didn  t  think  Marmaduke  would  be  interested  " 
said  Peggy  quicUy.    "He  and  OhVer  have  n^;r 
been  what  you  might  caU  bosom  friends." 

1  shouldn  t  have  minded  about  hearing  of  him  " 

-^^T"-       Why^o-Jdl?    What's  he  doS" 

The  Dean  gave  mfonnation.    Oliver  now  a  can. 

tarn  had  come  home  on  leave  a  moXago^Ind  hid 

&TZ^-''^''^l^r^'^-    Hehadle'eragSd 
deal  of  fightmg,  and  had  one  or  two  narrow  esclpes. 

Was  he  keen  to  get  back?"  asked  Doggie.    ^ 
™Jrl    T,,^"?^^*^-    "'  instanced  his  c£se  in  mv 
remits  on  the  dangm  of  the  solution  of  continSt^^ 

flush  '•Sf'-^'"^?^'  ^'"^  ^  d^'^l'te'-.  ^ith  a 
Uush.       Ohver  is  as  keen  as  mustard."^   The  Dean 

made  a  httle  gesture  of  submission.    She  continu^ 

He  doesn't  "ke  the  beastUness  out  there  for  Ite 

own  sake,  any  more  than  Marmaduke  will.    But 

he  simply  loves  his  job.    He  has  improved  tr^ 

^P  ™,t  r*A,''''''  ^^i"^""  ^^^  '^^  naked,  and 
on/nf  n  -[^  accordmgly.  Now  that  he's  just 
one  of  a  milhon  who  have  been  up  agair-t  Ltfe 
stripped  to  Its  skeleton,  he's  a  bit  subdu^  " 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


141 


"I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Doggie. 

The  Dean,  urbanely  indulgent,  joined  his  finger- 
tips together  and  smiled.  '""Peggy  is  right,"  said 
be,  although  I  don't  wholly  approve  of  her  modem 
lack  of  reticence  in  metaphor.  Oliver  is  coming 
out  true  gold  from  the  fire.  He's  a  capital  feUow, 
And  he  spoke  of  you,  my  dear  Marmaduke,  in  the 
kuidest  way  in  the  world.  He  has  a  tremendous 
admiration  for  your  pluck." 

"That's  awfully  good  of  him,  I'm  sure,"  said 
Doggie. 

Presently  tlie  Dean,  good,  tactful  man,  discovered 
that  he  must  go  out  and  have  a  presci^ption  made 
up   at   a   chemist's.    That   arch-Hun   enemy   the 

fout,  against  which  he  must  never  be  unprepared, 
[e  would  be  back  in  time  for  dinner.    The  engaged 
couple  were  left  alone. 
"WeU?"  said  Peggy. 
"WeU,  dear.3"  said  Doggie. 
Her  lips  invited.    He  responded.    She  drew  him 
to  the  saddle-bag  sofa  and  they  sat  down  side  by 
side. 

^^  "I  quite  imderstand,  dear  old  thing,"  she  said. 
"I  know  the  resignation  and  the  rest  of  it  hurt  you 
awfully.  It  hurt  me.  But  it's  no  use  grousing 
over  spilt  milk.  You've  ah-eady  mopped  it  all  up. 
K's  no  disgrace  to  be  a  private.  It^  an  honour. 
There  are  thousands  of  gentlemen  in  the  ranks. 
Besides  —you'll  work  your  way  up  and  they'll 
offeryou  another  commission  in  no  time." 
^^  "You're  very  good  and  sweet,  dear,"  said  Doggie, 
to  have  such  faith  in  me.  But  I've  had  a  year  — " 
"A  yearl"  cried  Peggy.  "Good  Lord!  so  it  is." 
bne  counted  on  her  fingers.  "Not  quite.  But 
eleven  months.  It's  eleven  months  smce  I've  seen 
you.  Do  you  reaUse  that?  The  war  has  put  a 
stop  to  time.    It  is  just  one  endless  day." 

'  One  awful,   endless   day,"   Doggie   acquiesced 


142 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


with  a  smfle.    "But  I  was  sayine  — I've  had  a 

to  learn  myself.    And  what  I  don't  know  about 
myself  isn't  knowledge."  ^^ 

Peggy  intemipted  with  a  laugh.    "You  must  be 
a   wonder.    Dad's   always   preaching   about   seS^ 
knowledge.    TeU  me  all  about  it." 
UiP^^^I  ^^^  ^  ^f^^'  «*  ^^  same  time  passinit 
cried^    over  't  m  a  familiar  gesture.    Then  P^ 

"I  knew  there  was  something  wrong  with  you. 
Why  didnt  you  teU  me?  You've  had  your  S 
cut  — cut  qmte  differently" 
him  r."^  McPhail,  careful  godfather,  who  had  taken 
s^hS  I  T""J  *"  ^^  regimental  barber  and  pr^ 
scnbed  a  transformation  from  the  sleek  long  tair 
bn«hed  back  over  the  head  to  a  conventional  mili- 
tary crop  with  a  rudiment  of  a  side  parting.    On 

wlSchr/jTo-  '"^  "'  "  ^  ""^^ 

hair'iif  «f™«'"  Doggie  repUed,  "for  a  Tommy's 
hau-  to  be  cut  as  short  as  possible.  The  Germtms 
are  sheared  like  convicts."  ^^  vrermans 

Peggy  rq^arded  hun  open-eyed  and  puzzle-browed 

wl'/^re"^'*"'*  *^®  ?  commission,"  said  he,  "if  the 
War  Office  went  mad  and  sank  on  its  knees  Mid  b^? 
Its  head  m  the  dust  before  me." 
.!  J?  heaven's  name,  why  not?" 

1  ve  learned  my  place  in  the  world,"  said  Docrie 
P^gy  shook  hun  by  the  shoulder  knd  turnTon 
him  her  young,  eager  face. 

Your  place  in  the  world  is  that  of  a  cultivatwl 

&Tall.''   ''^  "^'   MannadSe**Kr*3 

""That  was  the  funnv  old  world  "  saJH  hf  "ti,of 

stood  on  its  legs-leg.  wide^a^t  S  t  h^ds' 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  143 

on  Its  head.    Everything's  upside  down     It   ih^ 
no  sort  of  use  for  M^WukeTevOT  of  D^nbv  hSi 
No  more  use  than  for  Goliath.    By  tS  wafK 
the  poor  htUe  beast  getting  on?"  ^'  ^ 

nf  ifi!^  '^I^^^-  „  OVGoliath  is  perfectly  assured 
lr!rt»P?l*'*'5-.  "«  *»««  ««t  it  rSmmed  into  Ws 

Svate?  ••       ■  ^°"  '°*^'"*  "^"y«  to  "^ain  a 

"I  do,"  said  he.    "Not  e»ren  a  corooral  — nnt 
even  a  bombardier.    You  see,  I've  l^SS  *r>^° 
P'^r^to  "f  «.rts,  and  that  satisfies  mfSition^  " 

you  wSlda^Tet  W  "i^  P^^-.  "ThouSh^why 
you  wouitm  t  let  Dad  get  you  a  nice  cushv  ioh  is 
a^tu^  I  can't  mideretandf    For  the  mltZe  I 

quielw  "^^^  "^y  *^  a^d  I  must  lie  on  it,"  he  said. 

But  when  will  that  be?    And  who  knows  mv 

**^t/??"',''*'«,*  ""^y  I'apPen  to  your-  '  "^ 

in  m  knocked  out,  I'm  knockivl  ™it  ot,j  +1,     < 

of  S?^     her  hand  on  his.    ^But  what's  to  become 
"We  needn't  cry  over  my  corpse  ye'  "  said  Docrie 

Sbe  woundnf  Tli^  "^i^-    ^^^^  a^a^  ^e°t  over 
..  F"""?  of  the  possible  commission. 

said'tie  Det.'*''^"^  '''  ^"  '^^  ^  '*'  ""^  boy." 
Peggy  cried  a  little  on  parting.    This  time  Doggie 


144 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


was  gomg,  not  to  the  fringe,  but  to  the  heart  of  the 

Great  Adventure.    Into  the  thick  of  the  carnage. 

A  year  ago,  she  said  through  her  tears,  she  would 

have  thought  herself  much  more  fitted  for  it  than 

Mannaduke. 
"Perhaps  you  are  still,  dear,"  said  Doggie,  with 

his  patient  snule. 
He  saw  them  to  the  taxi  which  was  to  take  them 

to    the    familiar    Sturrocks's.    Before   getting   in 

Pe^^  embraced  him. 
'  Keep  out  of  the  way  of  shells  and  bullets  as 

much  as  you  C6m." 
Ihe  Dean  blew  his  nose,  God-blessed  him,  and 

murmured    something    incoherent    about    Qehtiae 

for  the  glory  of  old  England. 
"Good  luck,"  cried  Peggy  from  the  window, 
bhe  blew  hmi  a  kiss.    The  taxi  drove  off  and 
Doggie  went  back  into  the  house  with  leaden  feet. 
The  raeetmg,  which  he  had  morbidly  dreaded,  had 
brought  bun  no  comfort.    It  had  not  removed  the 
mvisible  barrier  between  Peggy  and  himself.    But 
Peggy  seemed  so  unconscious  of  it  that  he  began  to 
wonder   whether  it  only   existed   in  his  (hseased 
unagmation.    Though  by  his  silences  and  reser 
he  had  given  her  cause  for  resentment  and  reproai 
her  attitude  was  nothing  less  than  angehc.    He 
sat  down  moodily  in  an  armchair,  his  hands  deep 
m  his  trousers  pockets  and  his  legs  stretched  out. 
The  fault  lay  in  himself,  he  argued.    What  was  the 
matter  with  him?    He  seemed   to  have  lost  all 
human  feeling,  Uke  the  man  with  the  stone  heart  in 
the  old  legend.    Otherwise  why  had  he  felt  no  prick 
of  jealousy  at  Peggy's  admiring  comprehension  of 
Ohver?    Of  course  he  loved  her.    Of  course  he 
wanted  to  mairy  her  when  this  nightmare  was  over. 
That  went  without  saying.    But  why  couldn't  he 
look  to  the  glowing  future?    A  poet  had  called  a 
lovers  mistress  "the  lode-star  ca  his  one  de-sirp." 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


145 


Tlat  to  hun  Peggy  ought  to  be.  Lode-star.  One 
desire.  The  words  confused  him.  He  had  no  iX 
star.    His  one  desire  was  to  be  left  alone.    Without 

petSLcUor  ""^"^  ^"""  ^""^  P«^^  ^^^^^ 
Doggie  was  no  psychologist.  He  had  never 
ac^ired  the  habit  oftumingVnself  inside  ou?  and 
gloatmg  over  the  horrid  spectacle.  All  his  life  he 
S^r,i»  tK  *  T^^^  ^^^  "^^^  «™P'e  motives  and  a 
t^£  R°y^^  ^""^^^  ^^  «t^dard  tc  measure 
tnem.    But  now  his  soul    was    knocked   into    a 

Si^'*^*^   "'  complexity,   and  his  poor  little 
standards  were  no  manner  of  use.    He  sSV  himself 
as  m  a  glass  darkly  mystified  by  imknown  change. 
He  rose,  sighed,  shook  hunsefr. 
I  give  it  up,"  said  he,  and  went  to  bed. 

Doggie  went  to  France:    a  France  hitherto  un- 

Tf^L  ^•■«°'=%<='««?  s^ept  and  gamishea  for  war. 
a  France,  f-ave  for  the  ubVuitous  English  soldiery 
of  silent  towns  and  empty  villages  ^and  S2d 
roads;  a  France  of  smiling  fiel,fc  -^  so^wM 
faces  of  women  and  drawn,  patient  faces  of  old  men 
-and  even  then,  the  women  and  old  men  were 

Zt.'f^  ^^^^^'  ^*"  "^^y  ^«'«  «t  work  onX 
land,  sohtary  figures  on  the  landscape,  with  vast 
spaces  between  them.    In  the  quiet  toVliships  eT 

iltJlft  •^'^,^'*.?'**="<^^  conflicted  with  theh- 
sense  of  being  m  friendly  provincial  France,  and  gave 
the  mipression  of  fore^  delation.  Fot  beS 
that  long  gnm  Ime  ofetemal  thunder,  away  over 
there  m  the  distance,  which  was  caUed  the  Fron? 
s  rest  signs  and  placards  in  yet  another  alien  toZe 
also  outraged  tie  serene  genius  of  French  urC 
we.  Yet  our  signs  were  a  symbol  <rf  a  mightv 
Empire  s  broUierhood  and  the  dimmed  eyes  that 
beheld  the  Place  de  la  Fontaine  tranrformS  Sto 


i 


146 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Holbom  Circus"  and  the  Grande  Rue  into  "Pic- 
cadilly, smiled,  and  the  owners  with  eager  courtesy 
dmscted  the  stray  Tommy  to  "Regent  Street'' 
which  they  had  known  all  their  life  as  the  Rue 
Feudlemaimil  —  a  word  which  Tommy  could  not 
remember,  still  less  pronounce.  It  was  as  much 
as  Tommy  could  do  to  get  hold  of  an  approximation 
to  the  name  of  the  town.  And  besides  these  re- 
namings,  other  inscriptions  flamed  about  the  streets; 
aJph^etical  hieroglyphs  in  which  the  mystic  letters 
H.  Q.  most  often  appeared;  "This  way  to  the 
X.  M.  C.  A.  hut  ;  in  many  humble  windows  the 
startling  announcement,  "Washing  done  here." 
Bntish  motor  lorries  and  ambulances  crowding 
Uie  htUe  Place  and  aligned  along  the  avenues, 
iiritish  faces,  British  voices,  everywhere.  The  blue 
uniform  and  blue  hehnet  of  a  French  soldier  seemed 
as  inconmious  though  as  welcome  as  in  London. 

And  the  straight,  endless  roads,  so  French  with 
then-  mfimte  border  of  poplars,  their  patient  little 
stones  marking  every  hundred  metres  until  the 
tenth  rose  into  the  proud  kilometre  stone  proclaim- 
mg  the  distance  to  the  next  stately  town,  rang  too 
with  the  sound  of  British  voices,  and  the  tramp  of 
Briti^  feet  and  the  clatter  of  British  transport, 
and  the  screech  and  whirr  of  cars,  revealing  as  they 
passed  the  flash  of  red  and  gold  of  the  British  staff. 
Yet  the  finely  cultivated  land  remained  to  show 
that  It  was  France;  and  the  little  whitewashed 
^^ages;  the  cur6  in  shovel  hat  and  rusty  cassock; 
the  children  in  blue  or  black  blouses,  who  stared  as 
Uie  British  troops  went  by;  the  patient,  elderly 
Temtonals  in  their  old  pre-war  uniforms,  guarding 
unttoeatened  culverts  or  repairing  the  roads;  the 
helpful  signs  set  up  in  happier  days  by  the  Tourmg 
Club  of  France. 

Into  t!xJs  strange  anomaly  of  a  land  came  Doggie 
with  his  draft,  still  half  stapled  by  the  remorse- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  U7 

lessness  of  the  stupendous  machine  in  which  he  had 
been  caught,  in  amte  of  his  many  months  of  trainiiw 
mEngland.  He  had  loathed  the  East  Coast  camp^ 
When  he  iMided  at  Boulogne  in  the  darii  and  pouring 
ram,  and  hunched  his  pack  with  the  others  who 
wOTt  off  smgmg  to  the  rest  camp,  he  regretted  East 

'  Give  us  a  turn  on  the  whisUe,  Doggie,"  said  a 

'  I  was  sea-sick  into  it  and  threw  it  overboard," 
be  OTowIed,  stimibling  over  the  raib  of  the  quay. 

liim        ^°"    ^'^  ^°"°^  """'"  ^^  *****  ™^  °®^ 
But  Doggie  did  not  trouble  to  repb',  his  neighbour 
bemg  only  a  private  like  himself.        ' 

Then  the  draft  joined  its  unit.  In  his  youth 
iJoggie  had  often  wondered  at  the  meaning  of  the 
lamihM-  mscnption  on  every  goods-van  in  France: 
40  Homines.  8  Chevaux.^'  Now  he  ceased  to 
wonder.  He  was  one  of  the  forty  men.  ...  At 
the  rail-head  he  began  to  march  and  at  last  joined 
the  remnant  of  his  battalion.  They  had  been 
through  hard   fighting   and  were   now  in   biUets. 

^°*t  J  ^"^^  *^®™'  ^®  ^*^  °<**  realised  the  drain 
there  had  been  on  the  reserves  at  home.  Very 
many  familiar  faces  of  officers  were  missing.  New 
men  had  taken  their  place.  And  very  many  of 
hw  old  comrades  had  gone,  some  to  Bhghty,  some 
West  of  that  Island  of  Desire;  and  those  who 
remained  had  the  eyes  of  children  who  had  passed 
through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 

McPhail  and  Mo  Shendish  had  passed  through 
unscathed.  In  the  reconstruction  of  the  regiment 
chance  willed  that  the  three  of  them  found  them- 
selves m  the  same  platoon  of  A  Company.  Doggie 
ahnost  embraced  them  when  they  met. 

"Laddie,"  said  McPhail  to  him.  as  he  was  drink- 
ing a  mahogany  coloured  Uquid,  that  was  known 


148 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


the  nearesf ^^ctS;  S'tTfr^t.'"'  "  ^'^^  - 
strous  red  hot     ivrl^.  J  """'■."nee  Had  been  a  mon- 

SoCousS'ciadT1d.r'^d"'rp  r^j'^r- 

mets.    Offirers     ««,^       i     ^"  dun-coloured  hel- 
Boch.  W  Ml  a,  mtlS  t<,m,1l„,rf  "S;  tiSi 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  149 

^ M^.h^  Uitog.  10  do  with  thdr  iM,,  jm.. 

.^o„!ii  •?'?"  **"^  of  t*>at.  now?  "  asked  McPhail 

They  do. 
sa  J?"' "T*  Mf P*  ^°rf  *°  '*'"  ^^  McPhail 

staces  put  in  the  way  of  flight THwU^ 
mihtary  system,  and  adapted  mysetf  to  th^  S 

his  sSj^'.^u:;  hs^J  ^&^^'^-  ^^-^'^'^ed  out  by 

"tt^  »°  peat  hand  at  mixing  metaphors  — " 
What  about  drmks?"  asked  Mo. 

are  h«"d  t^   u*^""'"  „'^P"^   McPhail.    "Both 
are  bad  for  the  brain.    But  as  to  what  you  woe 


ISO 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


1 


■aying,  laddie,  I'U  not  deny  that  I've  derived  con- 
ndwable  interest  and  amusement  from  a  bom- 
bardment. Yet  it  has  its  sad  aspect."  He  paused 
for  a  moment  or  two.  "Man."  he  continued, 
what  an  awful  waste  of  money  I " 

m'«°°1V^?^.  *^"'  °'*1  Mac  is  jawing  about," 
said  Mo  Shendish,  "but  you  can  take  it  from  me 
he  8  a  holy  terror  with  the  bayonet.    One  moment 

^tl  ^^  \^  ?  ^*^®  **»™»«1»  ^  hat.  and  the 
next  the  Boche  is  wnggling  like  a  wonn  on  a  bent 

Mo  winked  at  Phineas.  The  temptation  to  "teU 
ine  tale    to  the  new-comer  was  too  strong. 

Domie  grew  very  serious.  "  You've  Leen  killing 
men  like  thai?  " 

„f  "^"T*!?'  ^*'****?'"  ^^?^^  Phineas,  the  picture 
l^^^i^"^  T?t^*y-  ^'J  «»  lias  our  iron- 
P  —  1  would  have  said  steel-inviscerated,  but 
He  wouldn  t  understand  it  —  comrade  by  my  side." 
Mo  Shendish,  hehneled,  browned,  dned,  tough- 
ened,  a  very  different  Mo  from  the  pallid  fewet 
whom  Aggie  had  driven  into  the  ranks  of  war 
Hunched  hunself  up,  his  hands  clasping  his  knees.       ' 

«™.\i  '.V™™**  ^8"^  '*•  ^^'^^  you're  80  excited 
you  don  t  know  where  you  are,"  said  he,  "but  I 
don  t  hke  thmking  of  it  afterwards. " 

As  a  matter  of  fact  he  had  only  once  got  home  with 
the  bayonet,  and  the  memory  was  very  unpleasant. 
But  you  ve  lust  thought  of  it,"  said  Phineas. 

all/eilL.''"*  "^'  "^^  ^"  "'^"*  -^- 
"It's  astonishing,"  Phineas  remarked  senten- 
tiously,  how  many  people  not  only  refuse  to 
catch  pleasure  as  it  flies,  but  spurn  it  when  it  sits 
up  Md  bM8  at  them.  Laddie,"  he  turned  to 
Uoggie,  the  more  one  waUows  in  Hedonism,  the 
more  one  reabses  its  uiiplumbed  depths." 
A  httle  girl  of  ten,  neatly  pig-taUed  but  piteously 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  151 

shod,  came  near,  and  aeemed  to  cast  a  child's  en- 
vious eye  on  Doggie's  bread  and  iam. 

"Approach,   my  little   one,''   Phineas   cried   in 
French  words  but  with  the  accent  of  Sauchiehall 
^••,.. "  ^  ^ave  you  a  franc,  what  would  you  do 
with  It?  ' 

"I  should  buy  nourishment  (de  la  nourriture) 
for  maman." 

"  Lend  me  a  franc,  laddie,"  said  McPhail.  and  when 
Doggie  had  slipped  the  coin  into  his  pahn,  he  ad- 
dTMsed  the  child  m  uninteUigible  grandiloquence 
and  sent  her  on  her  way  mystified  but  rejoicing! 
Cm  bonsdr6lesd' Anglais! 

"Ah,  laddie,"  cned  Phineas,  stretching  himself 
out  comfortably  by  the  lintel  of  the  door.  "You've 
got  to  learn  to  savour  the  exquisite  pleasure  of  a 
genmnely  kindly  act." 

"Hold  onl"  cried  Mo.  "It  was  Doggie's  money 
you  were  flinging  about." 

McPhail  withered  him  with  a  glance. 

"You're  an  unphilosoi^cal  ignoramus,"  said  he. 


CHAPTER  Xlf 

PERHAPS  one  of  the  greatest  influences  which 
transformed    Doggie   into   a   fairly    efficient 
though  undistinguished  infantry-man  was  a 
morbid  social  terror  of  his  officers.    It  saved  him 

t^T^fT/it  «T'*"'^'?'  "°^  fr°™  "nany  «  heart 
to  heart  talk  wherem  the  zealous  lieutenant  gets 
to  know  his  men.  He  lived  in  dread  lest  military 
delmquence  or  civil  accompUshment  should  be  the 
means  of  revea'vig  the  dis^ace  which  bit  Uke  an 
acid  mto  his  soul.  His  undVisable  air  of  superior 
breedmg  could  not  fail  to  attract  notice,  bften 
his  officers  asked  him  what  he  was  in  civil-  life. 
His  reply  "A  clerk,  sir,"  had  to  satisfy  them.  He 
had  developed  a  cunous  self-protective  facultv  of 

S  H^'^n'^  "P  ^^  *  ''•^««^«8  «t  the  approach 
hL  ^u-  ?°f^  *  ^T^  subaltern  had  Elected 
mm  as  his  batman;  but  Doggie's  agonised  "'^ 
^^^  be  awfully  good  of  you,  %  if  yfu  didn't" 
mmd  not^  thinking  of  it,"  and  the  appeal  in  his 
eyes  estabhshed  Uie  freemasonry  of  caste  ^d  saved 
hi^frpm  dreaded  inUmato  relations. 

All  right,  if  you'u  rather  not,  Trevor  "  said  tiiP 

???Smi;tV'''^'^°-"'-^^«p«i«^-^ 

JS-atTatth^^^roflhlraC"  '^^'^  °°««^^' 
F^t"*/*^?^'  J"^^"  he  heard  of  it  -  it  was  on  the 
^t^T^^^^"""'-  {^  y°"  «t'"  consider  yo,^- 
self  too  fine  to  clean  another  man's  boots— " 

JJoggie,  m  one  of  his  auick  fit».  nf  ap-^cr    inter- 
rupted:  "if  you  Uiink  I'm  just  a  dirty  iftu;  snob, 

152 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  153 

if  you  don't  understand  why  I  beeced  to  be  let  off 
you  re  the  thickest-headed  f^l  b  Sonl"  ' 

.....»i™  "^*  that  laddie."  replied  Phineas.  with  his 

mthe  locust  swarm,  to  be  proniinent  neithwfor 
*^.'"""  r**'  *^"'  »n  tlie  litUe  clot  of  fifty    out- 

pfi;  "hi!  '•!^"*l'^  '*^"«'«  that  forlSd^hL 
Platoon.    It   braced   hun   to   the  performance^ 
hideous  tasks;    it  restrained  him  fcm  ™si3^  of 
sui^nor  intellectual  power  or  artis?™  caSt? 
m  world  upheaval  had  thrown  him  from  Cpe^: 

A  of  1!  Z\^'^'  *''-^  '"^  ^''^*'  «o"ection  on 
earth  of  httle  china  dogs,  mto  a  horrible,  feUd  hole 
m  the  ground  m  Northern  France.  It  had  tSrown 
not  the  average  young  Englishman  of  comfortable 
pMiUon  who  Ead  toyed  with  aesthetic  supeS! 
ties  as  an  mnusement,  but  a  poor  little  by-product 
«'  <''?'«tered  life  who  had  bien^  brought  up  from 

texture  of  his  very  existence.    He  was  wraDped 

af'^y.^fi  *^  ^^'  "".^^  ««t,  to  every  ti^  S 

otwhjchhe  was  acutely  sensitive.  j  "^cMi 

A  hole  in  the  ground  in  Northern  France.    The 

M!   ;  ^*u  "*  '^^'  "°^^  °°  «»'d  took  its  turn 

Fnn^H  ^''"'''^;  ?°^  **«y^  «°;  f°"  days  ofi? 
l-our  days  on  of  mwery  inconceivable.  Four  days 
on,  during  which  the  oflrcers  watched  the  mea  with 
the  unwavermg  vigilance  of  kindly  cats. 

"How  are  you  getting  along,  Trevor?" 

Nicely,  thank  you,  sir." 
"Feet  all  right?'' 
''Yes,  thank  you,  sir." 

Th'lt-ftL/'i-T.,'!'^"*  *'^  ^""^'  Sroissc  away. 
.?T.   ™"t  1  m  talking  to  you  for." 
I  m  perfectly  happy,  sir." 


154 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


»         1  -' 


Dam  sight  more  than  I  ami"  laughed  the  sub- 
altern and  with  a  cheery  nod  in  acknowledgment  of 
DMgje  s  salute,  splashed  down  the  muddy  trench, 
but  Doggie  was  chilled  to  the  bone,  and  he  had 
no  feehng  m  his  feet  which  were  under  six  mches  of 
water,  and  his  woollen  gloves,  being  wet  "through, 
were   useless,   and   prevented   his   numbed  handi 
from  feehng  the  sandbags  with  which  he  and  th- 
rest  of  the  platoon  were  repairing  the  parapet;   for 
the  C-ermans  had  just  consecrated  an  hour's  general 
bate  to  the  vicmity  of  the  trench,  and  its  exquisite 
symmetry,  the  pride  of  the  platoon  commlnder 
had  been  disturbed.    There  had  also  been  a  feW 
ghastly  casualties.    A  shell  had  fallen  and  burst 

SwM^^I'^vflS  ^^,f  ^f  ^J"^  °^  the  trench.  Some- 
thing that  looked  hke  half  a  man's  head  and  a  bit 
of  shouldei  had  dropped  just  in  front  of  the  dug-out 
where  Dogpe  and  his  section  was  sheltering.  dL™ 
staring  at  it  was  violently  sick.  In  a  stui>efied  wly 
he  found  hunself  minglmg  with  others  who  wer« 
engaged  in  cleanng  up  the  horror.  A  murmur 
reached  him  tiiat  it  was  Taffy  Jones  who  had  then 
been  dismembered  ...  The  bombardment  over, 
he  had  taken  his  place  with  the  rest  in  the  repara- 
tion of  the  parapet;  and  as  he  happened  to  £e  at 

??if°^  5  u  '""i-  ^^  °®<=^'"  *»«d  spoken  to  him. 
If  he  had  been  suffenng  tortures  unknown  to  Attila 
and  unimagmed  by  his  successors,  he  would  have 
answered  just  the  same. 

But  he  lamented  Taffy's  death  to  Phineas,  who 
hstened  sympathetically.  Such  a  cheery  coii-ade 
such  a  smart  soldier,  such  a  kindly  soul. 

''Not  a  black  spot  in  him,"  said  Doggie 

»,..«  J!"  ^°'  '^•?*^^'"  ^'^  McPhail.  "what  would 
have  been  your  opmion  of  a  bookmaker's  clerk?" 

I  know      replied  Doggie.    "But  this  isn't  a 
year  ago.    Just  look  round.''  ■>  lou  i  n 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  155 

nf  Tti*"S^^  somewhat  hysterically,  for  the  fate 
of  Taffy  had  unstruiut  him  for  thp  tim^     Dk- 
contemplated  the  l^iTdSj,  n^oTditl'^?^ 
Its  planks  half  swimming  on  filthvldH    ifj     • 

p^apet  above  wlucfi  it  was  diath  to  put  3 
tw  •  ^  F"^'  fr^  sJ'y'  *ie  only  thing  Q  211 

from  "tS'^B.r  °^  P"f"^'  ditch^lhaVZtS 
irom  Uie  Belgian  coast  to  Switzerland,  the  clav- 
covered,   shapeless  figures  of  men,   th^ir  Mows 
alm^^^^distmguishable  even    by'  featur^Xm 

„l^l  ^^  ^««'    'ome  upon  me  lately,"  said  Phineas 
that  patnotism  is  an  amazing  virtue  "         ^'^^a*' 
Doggie  drew  a  foot  ou.  of  the  mud  so  as  to  find 
a  le^  precarious  purchase  higher  up  the  do^ 

"th^^Fr^t?^™"'^  imagination,"  said  Phineas, 
tiMi  a  Free  Kn-k  precentor  in  Kirkcudbright." 
But  18  It  patnotism?"  Doggie  nersiat^l  "it 
I  thought  it  was.  I  should  beTfppie^  Ke  had 
orders  to  go  over  the  top  and  attack  and  Fco^d 
fi  ofr^*^/"'  «^«'''  «°d  lo«e  myself  just  i^Se 

8aid^£p„»  ^.^.^t*  *^T«  *^°™  ^«  trench," 
said  Phineas,  and  brass  hats  have  no  use  for 
rharaodical  privates."  °' 

bv     %!!^  to  attention  as  tho  staff-officer  passed 

'•  T      T  ^"^'^^  *"■*'''«  ™  impatiently: 
I'm  tr^i^  SSS^  ^°"  ""^^  ""^^'^t^^d  ^^^ 

A  smile  iUuminated  the  gaunt,  unshaven    mnrf 
caked  face  of  Phineas  McPhail.       "°^*''*'°'  '""«*- 

fendHnr*",C,f  **^'':  "'^t,Eagland  as  an  abstraction 
lend  for  itself.    But  you've  a  bonny  English  soul 


156 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


wiOun  you,  and  for  that  you  are  fightini?.  And  so 
had  poor  Taffjr  Jones.  And  I  have  a  bonHy  Scottish 
thiret,  the  poignancy  of  which  both  of  you  have 
been  happily  spared.  I  will  leave  you,  feddie  to 
seek  in  slumber  a  surcease  from  martyrdom." 

After  one  of  the  spells  in  the  trenches,  the  worst 
he  had  expenenced,  A  Company  was  marched  j-jto 
new  billets  some  nules  below  the  lines,  in  the  once 
prosperous  village  of  Fr^lus.    They  had  slouched 
a^ong  dead  tired,  drooping  under  their  packs,  sodden 
with  mud  and  sleeplessness,  silent,  with  not  a  note  of 
a  song  among  them -but  at  the  entrance  to  the 
village,  qmckened  by  a  word  or  two  of  exhortation 
Irom  officers  and  sergeants,  they  pulled  themselves 
together  andmarch^  m,  heads  up,  forward,  in  fault- 
1^  step.    The  G.  0.  was  jealous  of  the  honour  of 
vJfio^f^"  A^^  assumed  that  his  predecessors  m  the 
village  had  been  a  "rotten  lot,"  and  was  determined 
to  show  the  mhabitants  of  Fr^lus  what  a  crack 
Jinghsh  regunent  was  really  Uke.    Fr61us  was  an 
unimportant,  uidieard  of  village;    but  the  opinion 
of  a  thousand  Freluses  made  up  France's  oninion 
of^e  Bnti^  Army.    Doggie,  although  haft  stu- 
pefied with  fatigue,  responded  to  the  senthnent, 
hke  the  rest.    He  was  conscious  of  making  part  of 
a  gaUant  show     It  was  only  when  theyhSt&d 
stood  easy  that  he  lost  count  of  things.    The  wide 
mam  street  of  the  village  swam  characterless  before 
his  eyes     He  followed,  not  directions,  but  directed 
men,  with  a  sheephke  mstmct,  and  found  hunself 
stumbhng  through  an  archway  down  a  narrow  path. 
He  had  a  dim  consciousness  of  lurching  sideways 
and  coirfuse(Uy  apologismg  to  a  woman  who  sup- 
ported him  back  to  equilibrium.    Then  the  nert 
thing  he  saw  was  a  bam  fuU  of  fresh  straw,  and  when 
somebody  pomted  to  a  vacant  strip,  he  feU  down, 
with  many  others,  and  went  to  sleep. ; 


It  = 

■H 


THE  BOUGH  ROAD  ,57 

Doggie  thought,  tragic  eyes.  '  ^**  ^ 

the^da?^^*!?"'  ^^*  ^Pection.  all  the  duties  of 
Me  aay  and  dinner  were  over     Mnat  r^r  *k»  ~ 

aruculate  ideas  was  concenied,  with  shy  cMdren 

to  htUe  diops  on  the  ground  floor,  ^th  here3 
there  a  discreet  iron  gate  shutting  off  the  d^t^v 

indicating  the  name  and  pursuiV^of  the  teifant^ 
with  here  and  there,  too,  long,  whitewashed^L' 
encl,^in.  a  daii^  or  a  timber  y  WreSll'S 
nlt^^^^  ^^*  ^^^  ,™«'^'  ^d  the  village  gradu^v 

Ss'otiZ'  tr  ""^r  o7or'iSl'';^ea^t^ 
PIOUS  onermgs.    At  open  doors  the  Lritish  soldipro 

h^le'w'  ri"^  ^^  ^"^  interiot  bJSnd 
tnem  tne  torms  of  the  women  of  the  house  hlii« 
aproned,  moved  to  and  fro.    The  early^TemS 


158 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


was  warm,  a  westerly  breeze  deadened  the  sound  of 
the  distant  bombardment  to  an  unheeded  drone, 
and  a  holy  peace  settled  over  the  place. 

Doggie,    clean,    refreshed,    comfortably   drowsy, 
having  explored  the  village,  retmned  to  his  billet, 
and  looking  at  it  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  way, 
for  the  first  time  reaUsed  its  nature.    The  lane  into 
which  he  had  stumbled  the  night  before  ran  under 
an   archway   supporting   some  kind   of   overhead 
chamber,  and  separated  the  dwelling  house  from  a 
a  warehouse  wall  on  which  vast  letters  proclaimed  the 
fact  that  Veuve  Moiia  et  Fils  carried  on  therein 
^e  busmess  of  hay  and   com  dealers.    Hence, 
Doggie  reflected,  the  fresh,  deep  straw  on  which 
he   and   his   fortunate    comrades    had    wallowed. 
The  double  gate  under  the  archway  was  held  back 
bjr  uon  stancheons.    The  two-storied  house  looked 
fajrly  large  and  comfortable.    The  front  door  stood 
wide  open,  giving  the  view  of  a  neat,  stiff  Uttle  hall 
or  hvmg-room.    An  article  of  furniture  caught  his 
idle  eye.    He  crossed  the  road  in  order  to  have  a 
nearer  view.    It  was  a  huge,  pohshed  mahogany 
cask  standmg  about  four  feet  high,  bound  with 
shimng  brass  bands,  such  as  he  remembered  having 
seen  once  in  Brittany.    He  advanced  still  closer, 
and  suddenly  the  slim-  dark  girl  appeared  and  stood 
m  the  doorway  and  looked  frankly  and  somewhat 
rebukmgly  into  his  inquisitive  eyes.    Doggie  flushed 
as  one  caught  in  an  unmannerly  act.    A  crying 
fault  of  the  British  Army  is  that  it  prescribes  for 
the  rank  and  file  no  form  of  polite  recognition  of  the 
existence  of  civilians.    It  is  contrary  to  Army  Ordei 
to  salute  or  to  take  off  theu-  caps.    They  can  only 
jprk  their  heads  and  grin,  a  gauche  proceeding  which 

e laces  them  at  a  disadvantage  with  the  fair  sex. 
»oggie,  therefore,  sketched  a  vague  salutation 
halfway  between  a  salute  and  a  bow,  and  began  a 
profuse  apology.    Mademoiselle  must  pardon  his 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


159 


curiosity,  but  as  a  lover  of  old  things  he  had  been 
struck  by  the  beautiful  tonneau.  ^^ 

An  amused  light  came  into  her  sombre  eves  and  a 
smile  flickered  round  her  lips.    Dogrie  noted  in 
stantly  how  pale  she  was,  anfhow  ^?,  fdSt  litUe 

said^^Thi'^^"  '^*^°  ^"^  *'?="^«'  Monsieur,"  she 
"  P„  Thedoor  was  open  to  the  view  of  everybody." 

f„  «  j^"^^^-,.    P"**°n-    But   it's  droll.    First 
to  find  an  English  soldier  apologising  for  lookiS 

mS  a  ^X'- ""'  *^'°  ^  ^^  "^  fS 

Doggie  said,  with  a  little  touch  of  national  ieal- 
ousy  and  a  revers  on  to  Durdlebury  puSo-    "I 

Enghsh  soldier  conduct  himself  Uke  a  gentleman  " 

Ma/s  oui,  maw  ouif"  she  cried.  ^'They  are  all 
chanmng.  lis  spnt  doux  comme  des  moutoL  BvTt 
Sfat^."  '^''''*'°  "^  delicacy -somewhat  exaj- 
said  Do/^  °^  ^°"'  MademoiseUe.  to  forgive  me." 

ci,®L^  *^^  ™'*f  °f  P'''^^^  intercourse,  either  Dogrie 
should  have  made  his  bow  and  exit,  or  the  mdl^ 
exercising  her  prerogative,  should  have  givThS 
the  opportunity  of  graceful  withdrawal.  But  tS 
remamed  where  they  were,  the  girl  framed  bv  the 
iT""!?',*^"  "*^^  ^>«  fi8"«  in  khalHnd  hch^! 
teZfti^^Hp'^'  "P  ^"  ^^'  ^--  *^«  ^-'" 

av^e'r^tautif^'CaTy'o??"^""^'^*--  "^«*'« 
She  wavered  for  a  few  seconds.    Then  she  said: 

youS""*^  ^°**''  ^*''^'^'^'  a°d  examine  it,  if 
MademoiseUe  was  very  amiable,   said  Doggie. 


160 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


III' 


Mademoiselle  moved  aside  and  Doggie  entCTed 
takmg  off  his  helmet  and  holding  it  mider  his  arm 
like  an  opera-hat.  There  was  nothing  much  to  see 
m  the  httle  vestibule-parlour:  a  stiff,  tasseUed 
cnair  or  two,  a  great  old  linen  press,  taking  up  most 
of  one  side  of  a  wall,  a  cheap  table  covered  with  a 
chenille  tablecloth,  and  the  resplendent  old  cask, 
about  which  he  hngered.  He  mentioned  Brittany 
Her  tranc  face  lighted  up  again.  Monsieur  was 
right.  Her  aunt,  Madame  Morin,  was  Breton, 
and  had  brought  the  cask  with  her  as  part  of 
her  dowry,  together  with  the  press  and  other 
furmture.  Doggie  aUuded  to  the  vastly  lettered 
mscnption,  "Veuve Morm et  Fils."  Madame  Morin 
was,  m  a  sense,  his  hostess?  And  the  son? 
Alas,  Monsieur!" 

And  Doggie  knew  what  that  "alasl"  meant. 

•'Where,  Mademoiselle?" 

"The  Argonne." 

"And  Madame  your  aunt?" 

She  shrugged  her  thin  though  shapely  shoulders. 

•      r.f"'LH®**  ¥'■    S^e  ^  a  lit"«  oW  and  an 
mvahd.    She  has  been  in  bed  for  the  last  three 

"Then  what  becomes  of  the  busmess?" 
It  IS  I  Monsieur,  who  am  the  business.  And  I 
know  nothmg  about  it."  She  sighed.  Then  with 
her  blue  apron  — otherwise  she  was  dressed  in 
unreheved  black --she  rubbed  an  imaginary  speck 
Irom  the  brass  banding  of  the  cask.  "Tim  I 
suppose  you  know,  was  for  the  best  brandy.  Mon- 
sieur. '    ■"*"" 

"And  now?"  he  asked. 

"Annemory.    A  sentiment.    A  thing  of  beauty." 

In  a  femmme  way  which  he  understood  she  herded 

him  to  the  door,  by  way  of  dismissal.    Durdleburv 

helped  bun.    A  tiny  French  village  has  as  many 

slanderous  tongues  as  an  English  cathedral  city. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  161 

Sfb!!?*  PI3**'"¥.  *«  <^e  poUte  leave  when  she 
looked  swiftry  at  him,  and  made  the  faintest  gesture 
of  a  detaining  hand. 

"Now  I  remember.    It  was  you  who  nearly  fell 
mto  me  last  mght,  when  you  were  entering  through 

The    dim    recollection    came    back  — the    firm 


.^.uuvw  juu,     smueu  Lioggie 

You  were  at  the  end  of  your  tether, 
verygently,  "Pauvre  garQon!" 

■  L.  f,  ^"'f*  fiocAes  had  kept  us  awake  for  four 
nights,   said  Doggie.    "  That  was  why." 
And  you  are  rested  now?" 
He  laughed.    "Ahnost." 

They  were  at  the  door.  He  looked  out  and  drew 
back.  A  luiot  of  men  were  gathered  by  the  gate 
of  the  yard.  Apparently  she  had  seen  them  too. 
for  a  flush  rose  to  her  pale  cheeks. 

MademoiseUe,"  said  Doggie,  "I  should  like  to 
creep  back  to  the  bam  and  sleep.  If  I  pass  my 
comrades  they'll  want  to  detain  me." 

"r""'^*.u^°"'^  ^,  *  P**^'"  she  said  demurely, 
l^ome  this  way,  Monsieur." 

She  led  him  through  a  room  and  a  passage  to  the 
kitchen.  They  shared  a  pleasurable  sense  of  adven- 
ture and  secrecy.  At  the  kitchen  door  she  paused 
and  spoke  to  an  old  woman  chopping  up  vegetables. 
Toinette,  let  Monsieur  pass."  To  Doggie  she 
said:      Au  revoir,  Monsieur*'  and  disappearwl. 

ITie  old  woman  looked  at  him  at  first  with  dis- 
favour. She  did  not  hold  with  Tommies  needlessly 
tramping  over  the  clean  flags  of  her  kitchen.  But 
IJoggies  pohte  apology  for  disturbing  her,  and  a 
youthful  ^ace  of  manner  — he  stiUteld  his  tin- 

h  rT'"^^  iusanii  —  caused  her  features  to  relax, 
lou  are  English?" 


162 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


With  a  smile  he  indicated  his  unifonn.  "Why 
yes,  Madame." 

^^How  comes  it  then  that  you  speak  French?" 

"Because  I  have  always  loved  your  beautiful 
r  ranee,  Madame." 

"France— a/i.'  la  pauvre  Francel"  She  sighed, 
drew  a  wisp  of  what  had  been  a  comet  of  snufif  from 
her  pocket,  opened  it,  dipped  in  a  tentative  finger 
and  thumb  and,  finding  it  empty,  gazed  at  it  with 
disappointment,  sighed  again,  and  with  the  me- 
thodical hopelessness  of  age  folded  it  up  into  the 
neatest  of  Dttle  squares  and  thrust  it  back  in  her 
podtet    Then  she  went  on  with  her  vegetables. 

Doggie  took  his  leave  and  emerged  mto  the  yard. 

He  dozed  pleasantly  on  the  straw  of  the  bam,  but 
It  was  not  the  dead  sleep  of  the  night.  Bits  of  his 
recent  little  adventure  fitted  into  the  semi-con- 
scious intervals.  He  heard  the  girl's  voice  saying 
so  gently:  "Pauvre  gargon!"  and  it  was  very  com- 
forting. 

He  was  finally  aroused  by  Phineas  and  Mo  Shen- 
dMh,  who,  having  slept  like  tired  dogs  some  distance 
off  down  the  barn,  now  desired  his  company  for  a 
stroll  round  the  village.  Doggie  good-naturedly 
assented.  As  they  passed  the  house  door  he  cast 
a  quick  glance.  It  was  open,  >M'.t  the  slim  figure  in 
black  with  the  blue  apron  was  not  visible  within. 
The  shining  cask,  however,  seemed  to  smile  a  friendly 
greeting. 

..  "  W  you  believed  the  London  papers,"  said  Phineas, 
youd  thin.'  that  the  war-wom  soldier  coming 
from  the  trenches  is  met  behind  the  lines  with 
lu»mous  Turkish  baths,  comfortable  warm  canteens, 
amd  Picture  Palaces  and  theatrical  entertainments. 
Can  you  perceive  here  any  of  those  amenities  of 
modem  warfare?  " 

They  looked  ajound  them  and  admitted  that 
they  could  not. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  i«3 

Kn^tef^^^'y'"  ?*'**  PJiineas.  "the  Colonel,  «)od 
but  limited  man.  has  missed  aU  the  proper  diIom 

Sdon"p^.V?  ^  '"^^^  unrecoffl'lj'^^e 

«j».I?'l  ™?.n°  *?,®.  P'^'  «*  Brighton,'"  sang  Mo 
Shendish.  "But  I'd  sooner  have  Mwrit  ot  Ym- 
mouth  any  day  Brighton's  too  toffish  V  whelS. 
My  I  and  cocUesI  T  wonder  whether  we  shaS 
^er  eat  'em  again."  A  far-away,  dreamt  S 
crept  mto  ins  eyes.  ' 

'Does  your  young  lady  like  cocUes?"  Doerie 
asked  sympathetically.  wvmcBr     i^oggie 

wi.  i-^Tv.**?*^  ?°  ^™-  We  hadTda^  at 
Southend  just  before  the  war  — "  ' 

l«t!pn  J^'S.'^*'**^  ^^°-  ^S^^'ote.  His  companions 
if  i  i?^f  ^  iromcaUy  carrying  out  his  theory 

tir^^^^^\  ?^«^^  ^'^  ^e'  instinct,  ft 
anpeared  there  had  been  an  altercation  over  right 

L^°"^A^^-^  ^^y^^'^^t  vendor  in  which7to 
^?Yn^/±^K*'°"'  ^-^  h"^  «"°«  off  triumphant 
mv^?  T^*  u^  ^'T'r^..  being  in  the  fishVade 
myself,  I  could  spot  the  winners. 

James  Marmaduke  Trevor  of  Denby  HaU  laughed 

^^'oidM^.''°  ^^  '«'=>'•  ^^  -^  -'^"i^-ti^ 

At  the  Uttle  school-house  they  stopped  to  gossip 

2f  t^r  °^  *^T  ^""°^^  ^J'"  were  b^meted  tK 
and^  they  sang  the  praises  of  the  Veuve  Morin's 

"I  wonder  you  don't  have  the  house  full  of  officers 
if  it  8  so  wonderful."  said  someone.  ' 

Oi^^^TTf  "*  «>T?'"*'i  ^  *«  confidence  of  tbe 
i^^nlS^^^^^"'  ^M^^  that  the  landlady  being 
m  m  bed  and  the  place  run  by  a  young  girl,  the  ho^ 
had  been  purposely  missed.    Doggie  drlw  a  brealhof 

Zi«h!\  t.,"^*';  ^°**  attributed  Madame  Morin's 
malady  to  the  mtervention  of  a  kindly  providence. 


164 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


T^ey  stroUed  on  and  came  to  a  forlorn  little  Debit 
ae  I  abac,  showing  in  its  small  window  some  clav 
pipes  and  a  few  flyblown  picture  postcards.    Now 
Uoggie.  m  spite  of  his  training  in  adversity,  had 
never  resij^ed  himself  to  "Woodbines"  and  other 
such  brands  supplied  to  the  British  Army,  and 
Egyptian  and  Turkish  beinsr  beyond  his  social  pale 
^l- ^l^??***  ^"o'^'ng  French  Regie  tobacco,  of 
jhich  he  laid  m  a  stock  whenever  he  had  the  chance, 
ho  now  he  entered  the  shop,  leaving  Phineas  and 
Mo  outeide.    As  they  looked  on  French  cigarettes 
wiUi  sturdy  British  contempt,  they  were  not  in- 
terested in  Doggie  s  purchases.    A  wan  girl  of  thir- 
teen rose  from  behind  the  counter. 
Vous desirez.  Monsieur?" 
Doggie  stated  his  desire.    The  girl  was  calculating 
the  pnce  of  the  packets  before  wrapping  them  up^ 
when  his  eyes  feU  upon  a  neat  little  pfle  of  cornets  m 

f/r    '*'%"*.u^^  ^^''\    '^^^y  '^'^^'^"y  suggested 
to  him  one  of  the  great  luminous  ideas  of  £&  Ufe 
It  was  only  afterwards  tbat  he  realised  its  effulgence, 
l-or  the  moment  he  was  merely  concerned  widi  the 
needs  of  a  poor  old  woman  who  had  sighed  lament- 
ably  over  an  empty  paper  of  comfort. 
Do  you  sell  snuff? 
"But  yes.  Monsieur." 
"Give  me  some  of  the  best  quality." 
How  much  does  Monsieur  desire?" 
A  lot,"  said  Doggie. 

f».^i.¥  '^5'^''*  *  *^?"*  package,  enough  to  set 
the  whole  village  sneezing  to  the  end  of  the  war 
and  peering  round  the  tiny  shop  and  espying  in  the 
recess^  of  a  glass  case  a  Uttle  oWwood  bol,  orm^^ 

™frl  <^°*^^*°?  ^i^^n^^  ^'^  forget-me-nots, 
purchased  that  also.  He  had  just  paid  when  iik 
companions  put  their  heads  in  'the  dwrwly     £ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  I65 

pointing  waggishljr  to  Doggie,  warned  the  Uttle  girl 
against  his  depravity.  '* 

''Mauvy,  mauvyl"  said  he. 
Qu'e»l-ce  qu'il  dii?"  asked  the  child. 

i~>t    ff  '*'*  i.**"?^  ?^  ^«  regiment  whom  I  have  to 
look  after  and  feed  with  pap,"  said  Doggie   "and 
bemg  hun^y,  he  is  b^ging^ou  not  to  de^Tn  'me/^*'' 

Mon  Dieu!"  r-ied  the  child. 
Doggie,  always  courteous,  went  out  with  a  "Bon 
soir,  Mademoiselle,"  and  joined  his  friends. 

What  were  vou  jabbering  to  her  about?"    Mo 
asked  suspiciously. 

.r^l^^i^""^  *"j"  **"?  ''*f'^l  translaUon  of  his 
speech.    Phineas  burst  into  loud  laughter 

•  1,  ^T«>"  ^d  ¥'.  "I've  never  heard  you  make  a 
joke  before.    The  idiot  of  the  regiment  ^andyouVe 

you  t^a  ?"     "'         '  ^^-    '*^**  ^"^  come  over 

Ho'I^  Jie'd^,a-said  a  thine  Uke  that  in  Mare  Street. 

?  ?'"^^\i'*c^^^5.'j"'^«^  his  blinking  'ead  orf." 
declared  Mo  Shendish.  ' 

"Have  a  try  now.  Mo." 

esSish'S  hS.0^  ''^  ''^  "«'^  ^"-'  -<•  ^- 
It  was  late  that  evening  before  Doggie  could  find 
an  opportumty  of  slippTnp,  unobserved,  through 
the  open  door  into  the  house  Wtchen  dimly  illumi- 
nated by  an  oil  lamp. 

"Madame,"  said  lie  to  Toinette,  "I  observed  to- 
day that  you  had  come  to  the  end  of  your  snuif. 

M^  TnJf  T*  *°  ^""^^  ^''^'^^  to  give  you  some? 
Also  a  httle  box  to  keep  it  in?" 

The  old  woman,  spare,  myriad-wrinUed  beneath 

her  peasant  s  coiffe,  yet  looking  as  if  carved  out  nf 

weatHer-ueaten  elm,  glanced  from  the  gift  to  the 

donor  and  from  the  donor  to  the  gift. 


I 


li 


.N< 


i 


IM  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

"But,   Monsieur  —Monsieur  — why?"  she  he- 
gan  quaveringly.  '       ""  '^ 

A^y°^  •!!  n^  *l«v«.'?meone  -  lH-bas  -  over  yon- 
der?    said  Doggie  with  a  sweep  of  his  hand. 

Afon^Ji.5"^"  ""^  *"**  ^''"  '^°*'  ^y  »'«°^°. 

gn^mhe:-"^^  comrade,  who  sends  the  snuff  to  tht 
And  Doggie  bolted. 


CHAPTEF 


A  '(I 


AT  breakfast  next  -    ,; ,     p  ,™  ..^      ,„.^ 


VI.     Pud  tight- 


by  a  hefty  cook  with  .,h.   sle. 

rolled  up  and  his  collar  olc,      ■  ;  v.      ="  j'.:^" 

"Rotten,"  said  Doggie. 

W.  with  her  hlSTI,  "ji.*T;f>'  "J  t« 

Bon/our,  mademoiselle."  '""'"a- 

..^^yow,  monsieur." 

sh?sK'teL"'^rdS'*""  ^-'^y- 

his  solicitude  ^  "^  amusement  from 

'.'Alas,  no,  monsieur." 

you  'Z  Si4?..^  ^"''^  ""»  "•«  pleasure  of  seeing 

"Yesterday  you  filled  our  tea-ketUes  " 
1«7 


168 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"But,  monsieur  "  she  replied  primly,  "I  am  not 
the  jiieonrftire  of  the  regiment."  "^  "oi 

"That's  a  pity,"  laughed  Doggie. 

Ihen  he  became  aware  of  the  adjacent  forms  and 
stenng  eyes  of  Phmeas  and  Mo,  who  for  the  first  time 
m  their  mihtary  career  beheld  him  on  easy  terms  with 
a  strwige  and  prepossessing  young  woman.  After  a 
seconds  thought  "he  came  to  a  diplomatic  decision. 
MademoiseUe,  •  said  he  in  his  best  Durdlebury 
^T^:  r  ™"J  '•  ^T  1°  P^«^"t  "^y  two  comrades, 
.    M^oilSS.^^  '"'*^°°'  """"^'^  ^^P^«^- 

somelw'^t*^^'?  ^T^  *  ^^^^  ^P^"^  ^°^'  and  then 
somewhat  mahciously  addressing  McPhail,  as  the 
biMer  and  the  elder  of  the  two.  -  ««  uie 

I  don't  yet  know  the  name  of  your  friend  " 
Phmeas  put  Lis  great  hand  on  Doggie's  shoulder. 
^  James  Marmaduke  Trevor." 
"Otherwise  caUed  Doggie,  Miss,"  said  Mo. 

prehL^n     ^  ^"*'^^"'  ^^^"^^  ""^  non-com- 

;.'Non  compree?"  asked  Mo. 
No,  Monsieur." 

"It  is  a  nickname  of  the  regiment.    Doggie." 
lUe  flushed  and  embarrassed  subject  of  the  dis- 
cusMon  saw  her  lips  move  silently  to  the  word. 

said  Phineas."^'  ^  '^''^'"■-    ^"'^'^^  Trevor," 

},i^»t,T^^  "i"°-.   ^""^  *^*  ^'-^ai'ge  thing  about 
rZf^f  r^  *^"*  •*  ^««  «  "■'tter  of  her  Bps  and 
rarely  of  her  eyes,  which  always  maintained  the 
hauntmg  sadness  of  their  tragic  depths. 
.Monsieur   Trevor,''   she  repeated,   imitatively. 

And  yours,  Monsieur?"  ' 

I' McPhail." 

"McFSe;  c'est  assez  difficile.    And  yours?" 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  i^ 

Mo  guessed.    "Shendish,"  said  he. 

hhe  repeated  that  also,  whereat  Mo  jmnned 
fatuously  showing  his  litUe  yellow  teeth  C?h 
his  scrubby  red  moustache.  *)eneath 

"My  friends  call  me  Mo,"  said  he. 

You've  got  it  right  fust  time.  Miss." 
ITom  her  two  steps  height  of  vantace  she  lookr  1 
down  on  the  three  upti^ed  Britislf  fo^s  -  -  ^  J 
her  eyes  v.ent  cahnly  from  one  to  the  other 
.  bhe  tmned  to  Doggie.    "One  would  sav    Mon- 
sieur^ that  you  were  the  Three  Musietee^^' 

Possibly,  MademoiseUe,"  laughed  Dogrie      Hp 

^  J  When  you  find  him,  bring  him  U,  me,"  said  the 

"MademoiseUe"    said    Phineas    gallantly    "we 
would  not  be  such  imbeciles  "  so^uuy,      we 

^Attiiat  moment  the  voice  of  Toinette  came  from 

I'Ma'amseUe  Jeanne!    Ma'amselle  Jeanne!" 
Oiu,    oui,   jy   viens,"    she    cried.     Bon   soir 
Messieurs,"  and  she  was  gone  ' 

snSK  t  W^  ^\  ^^  ^P^y    yestibvle    and 
smiled  at  the  fnendly  brandy  cask.    Provided  it  i« 

inriT'^   «"J«««.y   ^  ««   to   rhyme  S   the 
t.ngli8h    Anne,    It  IS  a  very  pretty  name.     Doerie 

.Sy?'::tf^^sK"£'Sf.^ 

80 prettily  she  was  lookmg  at  ghosts  behind  us^" 
Do  you  thmk  so?"  asked  Doggie,  startled. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


170 

'•Man,  I  know  it,"  replied  Phineas. 
«  WtT*^  be  blowedl "  cried  Mo  Shendiah.    "She's 
abitoforiMht.8hei8.    What  I  caU  class.    D(^'? 

the  other   and.  has  none  of  yer  bloomiiir  stand 

?^ ''^®°."™  — be  was  between  them.    "Look 

i^iingo  -  ^r-**^  '  •"'"*'  P'''^  "P  "^  b"^ 

'Make  violent  love  to  Toinette  and  ask  her  to 

"Jbe  nice  old  lady  in  the  Utchen." 
setfl" sddle!^  "™  ""^y-  "«'''  8°  «°d  boil  your- 

kit^hen**}tlT^'°^  °t'r.^  ^^'/b^  ol<l  ^<«nan  in  the 

nevi^  di'SnSl^/f.v*'"'  "^  "^^'^  .^^  S^^^^di^b 
nntn  Kw  J  u-  .?y  °®^«'"  dawned  on  Doerie 
unt^l  he  found  himself  at  it  that  evening.  *^ 

oii  r?^*^"^-  ^«J»enwerelomiginrandsmokinff 
about  the  courtyard.    Doffrie  who  Ih^Hii^^^' 

^diemged    poo/  Taffy'^'E-r'^EnSirpS 

fTS^*Bon5  W"*^''  "^r"^  insti^eSoH 
Tm  7l,»  •  ^*'  "^.^  P^^ym,  with  his  sensitive 
slull,  the  airs  they  loved.    BTe  had  just  fiSed 

wnen  Doggie  Trevor  plays  'Annie  Laurie  '  he  hn« 

at  ^"'  .^L^'^"-^-  -•l  fe'iferciTrun*^ 
and  received  his  meed  of  applause  when  ^Jn^! 
came  out  of  the  Wtchen,  tw^^eaTzinc  (^S'S  W 

5"d''  TlJerr^f*''  ^^  Pre  •"  the  c^So"  fh" 
yard.  ^Three  or  four  would-te  pumpers,   amonit 

id.  ^' 

see  to  it,"  said  one  of 


^- —  —^'^^^  "'  »"iir  wouia 
"lem  Dogme,  went  to  her  aid 
All  right,  mother,  we'll  s< 


them. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  171 

lomeite  abut  the  door  behind  him.    And  then. 

<n.oi,    f^*"*  in  Monsieur  to  show  him  ttfe^oto^ 

mt"e^iL'S"'k^%r'^^'''  ''^^  sent  iSe  t£ 
^    explamed  Tomette,  rummaging  in  a  cup- 

bJSg'uaru^^'  "*  '''"  ^^  ^o,^^' 

"ftfeSine^t^rSi"'''""^'"'"    ^'    '^- 

Bien  »flr,"  said  the  old  woman,  tuminit  with  the 

photograph    that  of  a  solid  yoingiZnt^raiaSi 

boggle  made  polite  remarks.    T^ette  Zt^  a 

^u^  "teTT*  iPf=>«'^  «°d  «)JS^ed  the 
P  u  S*- ,.  ""^^  ^^  handed  it  to  Jeanne. 

blanSr*  ^°"  thmk  there  is  a  great  deal  of  resem- 

anfe^d!^''*^  "  •^'°P«^  ^'"^^  «t  Doggie 

"lake  two  UtUe  soldiers  in  a  pod,"  she  said. 

Tomette  talked  of  her  pe^ib/ Vho  was  at  St.  Mihiel 

hi  ZTJ^^.V"^'  ^"^  ^-    She  sighed  as  thZh 
he  were  fighting  remote  in  the  Cauoisus.  ^ 

Dut «^pK^  *^?  the  sharp  ring  of  a  beU.    Jeanne 
put  aside  her  work  and  rose.  -"umc 

It  18  my  aunt  who  has  awakened." 
,   "l?i  t  <*">«**«  fas  aheady  at  the  door.    "  I  will  go 
up,  Ma  amseUe  Jeanne.    Do  not  derange  yourself" 


172 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


more  the  pair  found 


She  bustled  away.    Once 
themselves  alone  together. 

"If  you  don't  continue  your  sewing,  Mademoi- 
selle, said  Doggie,  "I  shall  think  that  I  am  dis- 
turbuig  you,  and  must  bid  you  good-night." 

Jeanne  sat  down  and  resumed  her  work.  A  sen- 
sation more  like  laughter  than  anything  else  fluttered 
round  Doggie's  heart. 

"Voulez-vous  wus  asseoir.  Monsieur — Trevor?" 

"Vous  ties  bien  aimable.  Mademoiselle  Jeanne," 
said  Doggie,  sitting  down  on  a  straight  backed  chair 
by  the  oil-cloth  covered  kitchen  table  which  was 
between  them. 

•  L-^i?^  '  ™'*^®  ^^  '^™P  slightly?"  he  asked,  for 
It  hid  her  from  his  view. 

He  moved  it  somewhat  to  her  left.  It  threw 
shadows  over  her  features,  accentuating  their 
"PPf?'^  sadness.  He  watched  her  and  thought 
ot  McPhail's  words  about  the  ghosts.  He  noted 
too,  as  the  needle  went  in  and  out  of  the  fab- 
nc,  that  her  hands,  though  roughened  by  coarse 
work,  were  finely  made,  with  long  fingers  and 
dehcate  wrists.  He  broke  a  silence  that  grew  em- 
barrassmg. 

"You  seem  to  have  suffered  greatly.  Mademoiselle 
Jeanne,   he  said  softly. 

Her  lips  quivered.    "  Mais  oui.  Monsieur" 
Monsieur  Trevor,"  he  said. 

She  put  her  hands  and  needlework  in  her  lac  and 
looked  at  him  full. 

"And  you  too  have  suflfered." 

;;i?    Oh,  no." 

"But  yes,  I  have  seen  too  much  of  it  not  to  know. 
1  see  m  the  eyes.  Your  two  comrades  to-day  — 
they  aie  good  fellows  —  but  they  have  not  suffered, 
lou  are  different." 

"Not  a  bit,"  he  declared.  "We're  just  httle  in- 
aistii^uishable  bits  of  the  conglomerate  Tommy." 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  173 

yolltfe'dk^er^*"'  '^^^  ^"^  ^°°°"^  ^  ^y  that 

now?    said  he. 

SJ°^  ^°  °?*  M°^«  ^  *^eir  world.  Your  Tom- 
mies are  wonderful  in  their  kindness  and  cMTalrv - 
untd^n^t  them  I.had  never  seen  an  EngfihS^ 
wn.,u  iT  -^  imiecile  ideas  — I  thSught  thev 
would  be  wiUiout  manners -«„  pea  Stonfe 
I  found  I  could  walk  among  them,  idthoutfe^  as 
if  I  were  a  princess.    It  is  trie."      '  ""'""""t  1^.  as 

E  tk  ^^""^  ??X  woman's  knowledge -- and  I 
know  there  is  a  difrerence  between  you  and^the 
others.  You  are  a  son  of  jrood  fanilv  Tt  ;= 
evident.  You  have  a  delicacy  o&3ffiL^ 
You  were  not  bom  to  be  a  soldier."  ^" 

Mademoiselle  Jeanne,"   cried  Doggie,    "do    I 

a  slacker  who  fortuitously  has  faifed  to™  the 
fungus  wreath  of  slackerdom.  «"  «>  wm  tue 

she  flushed  deep  red. 

Ve  rw  mis  pas  malhonnete.  Monsieur." 
TheJf^L^^'-i^^'^^  elbow-wise  over  the  table. 

hlf ^Bm  :¥«'J«~"''  •?^^«-    You  are  quite 
light.    But  It  s  not  a  question  of  what  I  was  lorn 


\ 


■J  •'} 
I 


174 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


ill 


to  be  — but  what  I  was  trained  to  be.    I  wasn't 
trained  to  be  a  soldier.    But  I  do  my  beat." 

She  looked  at  him  waveringly. 

"Forgive  me,  Mademoiselle. 

"But  you  flash  out  on  the  point  of  honour." 

Doggie  laughed.  "Which  shows  that  I  have  the 
essential  of  the  soldier." 

Doggie's  manner  was  not  without  charm.  She 
relented. 

"You  know  very  well  what  I  mean,"  she  said  re- 
bukingly.  'And  you  don't  deserve  that  I  should 
tell  It  to  you.  It  was  my  intention  to  say  that  you 
have  sacrificed  many  things  to  make  yourself  a 
simple  soldier." 

^]Only  a  few  idle  habits,"  said  Doggie. 

.'.You  joined,  Uke  the  rest,  as  a  volunteer?" 
Of  course." 

"You  abandoned  everything  to  fight  for  vonr 
country?"  ' 

Under  the  speU  of  her  dark  eyes  Doggie  said,  as 
he  had  said  to  Phineas  after;  the  going  West  of 
Taffy  Jones,  "I  think.  Mademoiselle  Jeanne,  it 
was  rather  to  fight  for  my  soul." 

She  resumed  her  sewing.  "That's  what  I  meant 
long  ago,  she  remarked  with  the  iiKi  draw  of  the 
needle.    "No  one  could  fight  for  his  soul  without 

Cmg  throueb  suffering.'^  She  went  on  sewing. 
"Pe,  shrmking  from  a  reply  that  might  have 
sounded  fatuous,  remained  silent;  but  he  realised  a 
wonderful  faculty  of  comprehension  in  Jeanne. 

After  a  while  he  said:  "Where  did  you  learn  all 
your  wisdom.  Mademoiselle  Jeanne?" 

"At  the  convent,  I  suppose.  My  father  gave  me 
a  good  education." 

'An  English  poet  has  said  'Knowledge  comes,  but 
wisdom  lingers  "  —  Doggie  had  rather  a  fight  to 
express  the  meaning  exactly  in  French  — "You 
dont  gather  wisdom  in  convents." 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 
It  18  true.    Since  then  I  have 


She 


ITS 

he  thoiufht  agam  of  the  ghosts.  ^^'  "°" 

he^fin7CZi^  ''""'  ^^'l-^^U^  Jeanne." 
broin?/e^^  '''^'*'"''*  "'  ^^'  ^^'^''  ^  ^^''^^ 

,"MyGodl"  said  Doggie. 
It  was  on  the  Retreat.    We  livpd  in  Po^k    ■ 

we  tned  to  go  by  train.    Pas  moyen.    We  took  to 
^e  road,  with  many  others.    V^could  no  °^et^ 
On?v«"TJ'!i*"':^  postponed  our  flight  tiUtoo  kte 
fh^L    ^"l/^""*^,*  ^^^  necess^ies  and  prec^i^ 
uungs.    And  we  walked  until  we  nearlv  Ai^^t 

i^lri^'^^'^'^^'^-    Fororhe^'le?e1e^' 
Stf^u^^LyKat-r^SrSi^S 
fest  we  got  lost  and  found  ourselvrb  a  Me  wld 
fh^T  '  ^"  I  'aughed,  to  cheer  my  parents   for 
have  U. ».  .  „i  tl":^  ^'°^  hSXh 

father  replied.     I  do  not  undersLd^'San'S 


176 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


t 


I 


;  'J 


I  did  not  know  and  shall  never  know  what  they 
said.  But  my  father  protested  in  anger,  and  stood 
in  front  of  the  horse  making  gestures.  And  then 
me  oflicer  took  out  his  revolver  and  shot  him  through 
the  heai-  and  he  feU  dead.  And  the  murderer 
turned  hid  »">rse's  head  round  and  he  laughed.  He 
laudbed,  Ai  ,  "jur." 
.  ."|?«™'      ■^'"  said  Doggie,  in  English.    "Damn 

He  gajsed  deep  into  Jeanne's  dark,  tearless  eyes, 
one  continued  in  the  same  even  voice: 

"My  mother  became  mad.  She  was  a  peasant,  a 
Bretonne,  where  the  blood  is  fierce,  and  she  screamed 
and  chmg  to  the  bridle  of  the  horse.  And  he  rode 
her  down  and  the  horse  trampled  on  her.  Then  he 
pointed  at  me,  who  was  supporting  the  body  of  my 
latiier,  and  three  men  dismounted.  But  suddenly 
be  heard  something,  gave  an  order  and  the  men 
mounted  again,  and  they  all  rode  away  laughing  and 
jeenng,  and  the  last  man,  in  bad  French,  shouted 
at  me  a  foul  insult.  And  I  was  there,  Monsieur 
1  revor,  with  my  father  dead  and  my  mother  stunned 
and  bruised  and  bleeding." 

Doggie,  sensitive,  quivered  to  the  girl's  traced  v. 
He  said  with  tense  face: 

".^c.^"^^  ™®  strength  to  kill  every  German  I 
see!  She  nodded  slowly.  " No  German  is  a  hiunan 
bemg.  If  I  were  God,  I  would  exterminate  the 
accursed  race  Uke  wolves." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Doggie.  A  short  silence 
fell.    He  asked:    "What  happened  then?" 

.  /^"'^  Dieu  I  almost  forget.  I  was  overwhehned 
with  grief  Mid  horror.  Some  hoiu«  afterwards  a 
small  body  of  English  infantry  came  —  many  of  them 
had  blwdstamed  bandages.  An  officer,  who  spoke 
a  httle  French,  questioned  me.  I  told  him  what  had 
happened.  He  spoke  with  another  officer,  and  be- 
cause I  recognised  the  word    Uhlans,    I  knew  they 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  177 

was  lost.  The/lo^k^  „t  f  ^^'  I^if'^'^'  »"*  I 
mother  had  SCTwlr/n  J  "^P"  Mf^n^Wle  my 
little  wine  fiClh^LTtTw^TT    ^  «"^«  her  a 

rd.^1  £t^  Wrt^^r  ^^^^^^^^^^ 

peat  peril.    MyZn'ar^Vng'orthlllsrand'f^^^ 

youreelf  toTpKfsSetv"  A  ^^^  ""^h^"-  «°d 
three  bottles  &IZ  StfiLr  ^^''  ^^'^  *«'«  ""^y 
rally  I  gave  it  all  f„^?i^  "^Pl"'''*'''™-  Natu- 
oallll  a^;^L^^roWS/nI^  -^^^  ^°°^-  He 
tributed  th^,  wMe  I  was  tl^H^'^'"'*''^  ""^  'l^ 
But  I  noticed  thatThe  twr^ffi^"*4°«.  "^  ™°ther. 

men.  .  .  .  Then  tJiPv  H,.i„  r..T  *^gush  gentle- 
6a£oj|n.«e,,  {T  ^f  fer '"^^  ^'Tf '  '  ^'"^  ** 
finished  .  .  the  Hflr.<,«r  ^  •  •  •  It  was  soon 
soldie,^  U>ika^i'ZdZV,T^:  'J  ^^  «»"« 
my  mother  lyi^^n  to/^  «  **'r?'f "**  '^'  *ith 
and  I  walkedN^fh^L^'^    l?"^  ''"'^  possessions, 

was  blotZl  out'tiS TatZ?  *^w7^t  °^  ""^  '^^ 
Route  Nationale  aeain  «mf^;  Ya  *^°'.  ™  *«  the 
Retreat.  Cd  ki  Te  ^Vh?  T«'^  «gain.  >^ith  the 
ing,  there  wL  a  hdt  f  Ipf  T  """'^  ^*^'  '"a^^h- 
w^  cold,  Monsieit^^/aTrti^  "i^he'wt  d^ad'"^ 
^e  conS  ^^•='^^-    ^^'   a^'lernfoits 

"I  fainted.    1  do  not  know  what  b'^nvncci  --i!  i 
recovered  Coiiscioi'snpoo  ot  j„  f— j'l --^ea  mi  i 


178 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


handcart.  It  was  the  market  square  of  a  little 
TVij  "'®?*®'*  many— old  men  and  women 
and  children,  refugees  like  me.  I  rose  and  found  a 
papCT  — a  leaf  torn  from  a  notebook  —  fixed  to 
the  handcart.  It  was  from  the  officer,  bidding  me 
farewell.  Military  necessity  forced  him  to  go  on 
with  his  men— but  he  had  kept  his  word  and  brought 
me  to  a  place  of  safety.  .  .  .  That  is  how  I  &st 
met  the  English,  Monsieur  Trevor.  They  had 
earned  me,  I  suppose,  on  the  handcart,  all  night 
they  who  were  broken  with  weariness.  I  owe 
them  my  life  and  my  reason." 
"And  your  mother?" 

"How  should  I  know?  Elle  est  restie  Ih-bas" 
she  repued  simply. 

She  went  on  with  her  sewing.  Doggie  wondered 
how  her  hand  could  be  so  steady.  There  was  a 
long  silence.  What  words,  save  vain  imprecations 
on  the  accursed  race,  were  adequate?  Presently 
her  glance  rested  for  a  second  or  two  on  his  sensitive 
face. 

"Why  do  you  not  smoke.  Monsieur  Trevor?" 

"May  I?" 

"Of  course.  It  cahns  the  nerves.  I  ought  not  to 
have  saddened  you  with  my  griefs." 

Doggie  took  out  his  pink  packet  and  lit  a  cigarette. 
You  are  very  understanding.  Mademoiselle 
Jeanne.  !•*••  it  does  a  selfish  man  like  me  good  to  be 
saddened  hy  a  story  like  yours.  I  have  not  had 
much  opportumty  in  my  life  of  feeUng  for  another's 
suffering.    .\nd  smce  the  wo  r  —  I  am  abruli." 

"You?  Do  you  think  if  I  had  not  found  you 
sympatique,  1  should  have  told  you  all  this?" 

"You  have  paid  me  a  great  compliment,  Made- 

moiseUe  Jeanne."    Then,  after  a  while  he  asked 

from  the  market  square  of  the  little  town  you 

found  means  to  come  here?  " 

"Alas,  no  I"  she  said,  putting  her  work  in  her  lap 


j  THE  ROUGH  ROAD  179 

USasv"'  "•»**«  "y  way.  with  my  charrtUe~it 

widower,  with  his  tar^^'J^^^J'^^^  "^one.  a 
children.  We  thought  we  w^  «^„  "f.  *',°**  "» 
came  that  the  G^aiw  JI^  i  "  '^"*'  "«*» 
We  had  time  to  a7    Art,ZT  '^^"l^  advancing. 

P^re  Grigou!  wh7-lov^SL'«'^rm?«''r«^' 
obstinate.  To  a  Frendmnrrf'i.^  -^  ^^  "°^'«  was 
his  flesh  and  hi^  bh^dTe  wo„  W^  ^T^^  « 
leave  it.  And  my  S  hnVUhl  ^  ^^  '?t^«'"  than 
and  mother  on  hlTdi^^lf/toldpLf^'y '««*«' 
take  me  away,  but  I  staverf  wt.h  k-  ,  ^"«°^  ^ 
Grigou  who  forced  4  ?^,^r  ^«t  V  Tf^  ^^^^ 
days.  There  was  a  well  in  f^w  ^  hat  lasted  two 
P^re  Grigou  ti«l  .m  ™  J    ""^  ^"™'  «nd  one  night 

jewelry ^rm^fethlKreL^',,™}:  """^A 
thinp  we  had,  in  a  paff  ^f  3'*'  ^  *?«  P'^^o^s 
itw?th  a  W  strSi^H^tl  ,J^^'*TJ™of  and  sank 
Germans  coiSd  nXLdTt  f^  ^"5  ^  *!>«*  the 
insisted.  One  day  iT^i  In/m  ^"^'^'^^  ^«t  he 
out  of  the  little  c^i^^Tere  v^  ha^\'  '^'If^.V  went 
order  to  reconnoitre  ftI,T  1  .  ''**'>  hiding,  in 
might  be  S  away  and  mv"^^*,  «»e  GenS^ 
not  listen  to  me,  Zk  h^l,"^  S"'^'  T''''  ^"'Jd 
a  shot -and  then^ot^Yn.^'^^^'y  ^  ^^"^^ 
it   meant.    And   s^  p|!;   r^""  *^  »"««s  what 

and  shaking  with  te^r     '//  ,^"^1"'  '^^^   white 
^,,,„        8     im  terror.      //  en  a  tui  un,  el  on  I'a 

."My  GodI"  said  Doggie  again. 
It  was  terrible  "  sK  0^;^      "r. 
their  right."  '      ^  ^''-       ^n*  they  were  in 

"And  then?" 

not  Sd^'f  tn-rS^r^^  '^^.r"^"^  *J^«y  *d 

ofrnas    --       t      """  I   KnoW  —  and    thpn    wo   ^o-^-^-j 

across  uuuntrv.    I  thnnokt  „*         •  ~"  .       esi^pL-ti 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   liST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


^  APPLIED  ItVHGE     In 

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180 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


m 


I  reflected  that  soon  the  Boches  would  be  here 
also.  And  we  went  on.  We  got  to  a  high  road  — 
and  once  more  I  was  among  troops  and  refugees.  I 
met  some  kind  folks  in  a  carriage,  a  Monsieur  and 
Madame  Tarride,  and  they  took  me  in.  And  so 
I  got  to  Paris,  where  I  had  the  hospitality  of  a  friend 
of  the  Convent,  who  was  married. 

"And  Pere  Grigoui'" 

"He  insisted  on  going  back  to  bury  my  uncle. 
Nothing  could  move  him.  He  had  not  parted  from 
him  all  his  hfe.  They  were  foster-brothers.  Where 
he  is  now,  who  knows?"  She  paused,  looked  again 
at  her  ghosts,  and  continued:  "That  is  all.  Monsieur 
Trevor.  The  Germans  passed  through  here  and  re- 
passed on  their  retreat,  and,  as  soon  as  it  was  safe, 
I  came  to  help  my  aunt,  who  was  souffrante,  and  had 
lost  her  son.  Also  because  I  could  not  live  on  charity 
on  my  friend,  for,  voyez-vous,  I  was  without  a  sou  — 
all  my  money  having  been  hidden  in  the  well  bv 
PSre  Grigou.''^  ' 

Doggie  leant  his  elbows  on  the  table. 

"And  you  have  come  through  all  that.  Mademoi- 
selle Jeanne,  just  as  you  are  —  ?" 

"How,  just  as  I  am?" 

"So  gentle  and  kind  and  comprehending?" 

Her  cheek  flushed.  "I  am  not  the  raaly  French- 
woman who  has  passed  through  such  things  and 
kept  herself  proud.  But  the  struggle  has  been  very 
hard." 

Doggie  rose  and  clenched  his  fists  and  rubbed  his 
head  from  front  to  back  in  his  old  indecisive  way, 
and  began  to  swear  incoherently  in  English.  She 
smiled  sadly. 

"Ah,  mon  pauvre  ami!" 

He  wheeled  round:  "Why  do  you  caU  me  'mon 
pauvre  ami?'" 

"Because  I  see  that  you  would  like  to  help  me, 
and  you  can't." 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  igi 

..Why  shouldn't  I  call  you  Jeanne?" 
,.,V°"  haven't  the  right." 
.'What  if  I  gain  it?'^ 
''How?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Doggie, 
^fc  IiD««d,  With  ,  grin,  «,d  jerked  .  backwari 

ss^i-oK'-cei'^r -» ?.ute; 

..Yuss,"  grained  Mo. 
.He  —  guard  —  house?  " 

do  "  criXhp'^r '  -^"^  IP  E°^««h  as  well  as  I 
ao,  cried  the  admirm^  ,vIo.  "Yuss  VVhpn  hie 
ton  comes,  up  and  down'  in  the  streeTby  the  gate '' 
He  saw  her  puzzled  look.    "Roo.    Port!''  ^fd  he 


182 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"Good  night,  Miss,"  said  Mo. 
.Some  time  later,  he  disturbed  Phineas,  by  whose 
side  he  slept,  from  his  initial  preparation  for  slumber. 
...  ,^®'=  .  I^  there   any  book   I  could   learn   this 
bunking  lingo  fromP  " 
"Try  Ezddel,"  replied  Phineas  sleepily. 


Mt 


1 


CHAPTER  XIV 

TCSlAr^^XS^^^  been 

life  as  much  as  ever  ^^eLn'  ^tT^  ^^^^^  ^^^^ 
go  through  it  with  the  d!,l^fi'?^°°'^  ^^^^  to 

Itwasno^'userSgatineifW"  "^  «  "^"^'^t- 
«»nditions.  TbsoSly^^Zf^  ^^"^^^  irremediable 
of  his  position  wa^iw°^*'^?'«  the  acceptance 

pride.  It  w^  Se  tW^kpnt^^t  '''?*'^««  °f  his 
smileonhish-pswMehiLr^L  ^^  H"'''  ^-onical 
mg  with  straiL.  ^e  fi^t  ?^?  T'^  ^"^t  break- 
he  was  physically  s^ck  _  r,„t^  H  "^Z  "^^^^  ^^ 
it  better  Uianmost  keenW^  ™  ^^^'  ¥  ^^  stood 
whose  function  it  was  to  Zw  ^^^  ^'^  ^is  captam 
-but  from  aheene!^ol^°,'^'^°*=«'°"' fece 
hideous  noise.  Xstench^l^/T'T  «»^''t  the 
the  earth,  ^e  ^ght  of  '  «-i^  ^^  ^  ""^^^^"^  "^ 
bombardiient  wTovi  TfW  i°t"-  ^^^  the 
would  have  sat  do^  .  1i  ^  •''^*'  heen  alone,  he 

grown  accuatomedrthrfoS  oSf.  '^'.^^ 
The  sounder  his  phvsical  !v,m?^      .u     trenches, 
his  delicately  train^H  »!    'Condition,  the  more  did 
when  fierce  "LScra^^'  T^h  i*   '^''^  ""Jy 
that  he  couldthrw  C^f  ^""^   ^''^   ««°ses, 
sleep,  that  he  co^d  Iw^^     ^^^  anywhere  and 
foocf  or  drink    ^erJf^f    i^/*^'"?  '"  the  way  of 
Yet,  what  had  once  bin^'^K^"^^^ '''^^y-  •  •  • 
decent,  nerve-rZL™^i-°.^™,«  torture,  the  in- 
had  now  beco^P^eo^a^n  ^?,^'^«^'«  hfe. 
much  .  --panionshipXe^SSeniVTntr^CLl^ 

183 


184 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


with  Phineas  and  Mo,  that  he  found  an  anodyne, 
but  in  the  consciousness  of  being  magnetically 
affected  by  the  crowd  of  his  feUows.  They  offered 
him  protection  agamst  himself.  Whatever  pangs 
of  self-pity  he  felt,  whatever  wan  httle  pleadings 
tor  the  bit  of  fine  porcelain  compelled  to  a  rourfi 
usage  which  vessels  of  coarser  clay  could  disregard 
came  Ungeringly  into  his  mmd,  he  dared  not  expres^ 
them  to  a  hvmg  soul  around.  On  the  contrary  he 
set  himself  assiduously  to  cultivate  the  earthenware 
habit  of  spirit;  not  to  feel,  not  to  think,  only  to 
endure.  To  a  humorously  incredulous  Jeanne  he 
proclaimed  hunself  abruli.  Finally,  the  ceaseless 
grind  of  the  military  machme  left  him  little  time  to 
think. 

But  in  the  soUtary  sleepless  hours  of  sentry  duty 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  think;  notning  wher^ 
with  to  while  away  the  time  but  an  orgy  of  intro- 
spection. First  came  the  ahnost  paralysmg  sense 
of  responsibiUty.  He  must  keep,  not  only  awake, 
but  alert  to  the  shghtest  sound,  the  slightest  move- 
ment. Lives  of  men  depended  on  hki  vigilance. 
A  man  can't  screw  hunself  up  to  this  beautifully 
emotional  pitch  for  very  long  and  be  an  efficient 
sentry.  If  he  did,  he  wouW  challenge  mice  and 
shoot  at  cloud-shadows  and  bring  the  deuce  of  a 
commotion  about  his  ears.  And  this  Doggie,  who 
did  not  lack  ordinary  intelligence,  reaUsed.  So 
he  strove  to  think  of  otlier  thmgs.  And  the  other 
Uungs  all  focussed  down  upon  his  Doggie  self 
-vnd  he  never  knew  what  to  make  of  his  Doggie 
sell  at  all.  For  he  would  curse  the  things  that  he 
once  loved  as  being  the  cause  of  his  inexpiable 
sname,  and  at  the  same  time  yearn  for  them  with  an 
agony  of  longing. 

And  he  would  force  himself  to  think  of  Peggy  and 
her  unswervkg  loyalty.  Of  her  weekly  pircel  of 
dainty  food  which  had  arrived  that  mbrmng     Of 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


185 

bis  4,d  wax.der^\Ti  tlS^'ofe^^^^^ 
numiLatiom  and  its  mppHq  orvj  ^  **"        .    ^""  '^s 
welcomed  en«ny  flL«^rf^l'*\yf«™^K8.    He 

sions  and  alS.    Th'ev1?eDt^*^f'  and  excur- 
enabled  him  to  pass  the  Se  ^„t  •'°.^'^"?' 

to-nightrdS!4^s^irTh.T^y  ''"I'^T^-  But 

"Romids." 
tor^'^pSL^or'TrS?^'  fl««^  «°  electric 

monotonously   off  hiS  LbnT  ^  J^f  T*  ^'^^^ 
ahodders  bu'tDoggTdiStt'Li^S.  *NowVdth!„° 

of  light  came  downward*  tif^    if  ^L     ■ "'®  streaks 
of  the  invahd  Madrm^S;  ""l*^^*""  ^e  bedroom 


186 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


was  Toinette  —  ridiculous  to  Ihink  of  her  keeping 
aU-mght  vigil.    There  remained  only  Jeanne. 

It  was  supremely  silly  of  him  to  march  with 
super-martiafity  of  tread  up  the  pavement;  but 
tnen  It  18  often  the  way  of  young  men  to  do  su- 
premely silly  things. 

The  next  day  was  fuss  and  bustle,  from  the  pri- 
vate soldier  s  point  of  view.  They  were  marclunjf 
DacJj  to  the  trenches  that  night,  and  a  crack  company 
must  take  over  with  flawless  equipment  and  in 
flawless  bodily  health.  In  the  afternoon  Doggie 
had  a  breathmg  speU  of  leisure.  He  waUied  boldly 
mto  the  kitchen.  ' 

"Madame,"  said  he  to  Toinette,  "I  suppose  you 
know  that  we  are  leaving  to-nightP" 

The  old  woman  sighed.  "It  is  always  like  that, 
iney  come,  they  make  friends,  they  go,  and  they 
never  return.  ' 

"^J'\  mustn't  make  the  Uttle  soldier  weep. 
gramrmkre,    said  Doggie. 

"No.    It  is  the  grand'mkres  who  weep,"  replied 

"I'U  come  back  all  right,"  said  he.  "Where  is 
Mademoiselle  Jeanne?  " 

"She  is  upstairs.  Monsieur." 

"If  she  had  gone  out,  I  shoul  I  have  been  disap- 
pointed,   smiled  Doggie. 

''You  desire  to  see  her,  Monsieur?" 

•To  thank  her  before  I  go  for  her  kindness  to  me." 

The  old  face  wrinkled  into  a  smile. 

"It  was  not  then  for  the  beaux  yeux  of  the  qrand'- 
men  that  you  entered?  " 

"Si,  si!  Of  course  it  was,"  he  protested.  "But 
one,  neverthe  e«s,  must  be  polite  to  MademoiseUe." 

..T.11     »  ^,,     ^^  *^®  <»'<^  woman,  bustling  out. 
Ill  call  her. 

Presently  Jeanne  came  in  alone,  cahn,  cool,  and 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  187 

^rt^&Z^\fr7^1r^J^^.^  «T*  Fate, 
stout  shoes,  she  eale^t  f^  "  ^""^  ^  ^e""  f™. 

for  the  first  time.    But  hi^f^^J^^^^  «t  was 
grip  of  her  long  anj^sfel^     «^^«  ^-k 

Tomette  said  you  wished  tof^me  " 
yoZ%Zr'^  ^'^^^'-    Ihairr«,meandbid 

^  Is  the  company  returnine?" 
gladr  '  '^"  ^«  Quar^Master  says.    Are  you 

:|fu;fffeas°r?ar}iV^^'-<^" 
„Pmr  *^r,"  she  replied  simplT^^'^ 

said?e'°  ^""  ''°"  *  "^d  ""y  c^  you  Jeanne?" 
tioSftaJrml^S?"  ^^'^  -«  ^-er  que. 
ac|ueryinhisXceXS*^^h'"dhma.    Me/ting 

Doggie  emb^ldeied   seS^^f^  °t*"  ^'«'  a^d 
by  her  side,  and  they  kok^^  ?»  the  comer, 
flagged  courtyard  irTwhich  f?l  "^"^  ""^^  **»«  ««le 
shirtsleeves,  Lme  ii^2s    wp?/°.'  '*'°?"  ^  g'^y 
gnong  the  little  pil^  aU^.r^  'T^«  «^"t 
Here  and  there  a  man  woc^  *^^™^°'«  and  packs, 
little  mirror  suppo^"!,"'  f  ^"^1  by  the  aifof  a 
laughter  were  IK?  tie  m.^.f'^rr*-    "^^<«  and 
httfe  group  were  fSdiL  „L^   ®*  afternoon  air.    A 
of  crLbF,  had  s3J'f:T  '^^ch.  at  the  sight 
colombier  fe  the  fr^lr^'^^^"*  ^om  U.e  ^U 

A.  Jeanne  did  not  speak.  atU^SoSe  ffio^^" 


188 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


i. 


and,  looking  into  her  eyes,  found  them  moist  with 
tears. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Jeanne?"  he  asked  in  a  low 
voice. 

"The  war,  mon  ami,"  she  replied,  turning  her  face 
towards  him,  "the  haunting  tragedy  of  the  war. 
I  don  t  know  how  to  express  what  I  mean.  If  all 
those  brave  fellows  there  w  nt  about  with  serious 
faces,  I  should  not  be  affected.  Mais,  voyez-vous 
kur  gaiele  fail  pew." 

Their  laughter  frightened  her.  Doggie,  vith  his 
c[mck  responsiveness,  understood.  She  had  put 
mto  a  phrase  the  haunting  tragedy  of  the  war. 
Tne  eternal  laughter  of  youth  quenched  in  a  gurgle 
of  the  throat. 

He  said  admiringly:  "You  are  a  wonderful  woman. 
Jeanne. 
_  Her   delicate   shoulders   moved,    ever   so   little 

A  woman?  I  suppose  I  am.  The  day  before  we 
tied  from  Cambrai  it  was  my  jovu-  de  fite.  I  was 
eighteen." 

Doggie  drew  in  his  breath  with  a  little  gasp.  He 
had  thought  she  was  older  than  he. 

"I  am  twenty-seven,"  he  said. 

She  looked  at  him  cahnly  and  critically.  "Yes. 
Now  I  see.  Until  now  I  should  have  given  yoii 
more.    But  the  war  ages  people.    Isn't  it  true?  " 

I  suppose  so,"  said  Doggie.  Then  he  had  i 
bnUiant  idea.  "But  when  the  war  is  over,  we'll 
remain  the  same  age  for  ever  and  ever." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"I'm  sure  of  it.  We'll  still  both  be  in  our  twenties. 
Let  us  suppose  the  war  puts  ten  years  of  experience 
and  suffermg,  and  what  not,  on  to  our  lives.  We'll 
only  then  be  in  our  thirties  —  and  nothing  possibly 
can  happen  to  make  us  grow  any  older.  At  seventy 
we  shall  still  be  thirty." 

"You  are  consoling,"  she  admitted.    "But  what 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  jgp 

thereVdheeHrJa^^d^'  «7Sli^y;  '' 
gone  among  an  Enslish  ^^Z  ^^  *'?"'''  J^ave 
an  old  matron?  Do  vo"  tiT?^  ~  **""  ?^n«-  like 
6ien  efe,ee  c^uld  have  teIkSlV'"'1-^'''/"''V«»« 
done,  the  past  twrdayl?"^,^^^  "fe««  '  ^ave 
tion  IS  the  war  "  Aosura.     ihe  explana- 

^K»^Be;i;iHr'"r^''«- 

understanding"  "^  """*  come  to  an 

and  unthinkingly  perched  hir^^/i  *',*"  ^^««. 
table  on  theZrn^'lrJ^^J^lZ^^  ^''^''^ 
legged  way.  Doggie  gasi^Lin^^l if t'  ""  "  ''"^ 
age  feU  from  her  Bkp  n  T  ^1  her  assumed 
cfaimed  itself  in  her  att;tnHf™i"*u  ^""'^  J»«>- 
of  her  figure  "wL  w' "'•^/^"  «"?/?'«  J^es 
with  aTteadfast  ^ul  th«t\  /k  ^^'^  ^'  ■»  «W 
utterable  firSfbun  Jri  L^^'r^'^".  ^^'^  ^  ^- 
felt  mighty  protecSve  ^  ^^P'^^"  *^^^«t>'e-  He 
..An  understanding?    All  right,"  said  he 

above  social  laws.  I  am  nJ  r  ,  themselves 
my  finger-tips,  and  I  r^rTnce  LX'lf^"^'''-  '^ 
and  prejudices  in  which  [«?»  TT  ^  °i**  maxuns 
tions  are  different     Tt  ;=  •  T?->™-    2ut  condi- 

have  been  c£  into  th:  Ss%?1  ^^^^  u"^" 
from  the  outside  vou  wnnlH^       1°  '"'*''  «*  them 


190 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


girls  of  his  acquamtance,  who  would  have  taken 
this  chance  companionship  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  his  face  lost  the  smile  and  became  grave,  and 
he  met  her  sad  eyes. 

"That  was  very  bravely  said,  Jeanne.  To  me 
you  will  be  always  the  most  wonderful  woman  I 
have  ever  known. 

"What  caused  you  to  speak  to  me  the  first  day?" 
she  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"I  explained  to  you  — to  apologise  for  staring 
rudely  into  your  house." 

"It  was  not  because  you  said  to  yourself,  'Here 
is  a  pretty  girl  looking  at  me.  I'll  go  and  talk  to 
her  P 

Doggie  threw  his  leg  over  the  comer  of  the  table 
and  stood  on  indignant  feet. 
"Jeannel    How  could  you — ?"  he  cried. 
She  leaned  back,  her  open  pakns  on  the  table. 
The  rare  light  came  into  her  eyes. 

"That's  what  I  wanted  to  know.  Now  we  under- 
stand each  other,  Monsieur  Trevor." 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  call  me  Monsieur  Trevor  " 
said  he. 

"What  else  can  I  call  you?  I  know  no  other 
name. 

Now  he  had  in  his  pocket  a  letter  from  Peggy, 
received  that  morning,  beginning  "My  dearest 
Marmaduke.  Peggy  seemed  far  away  and  the 
name  still  further.  He  was  deliberating  whether 
he  should  say  " Appelez-moi  James"  or  "Appelez- 
moi  Jaeques,'  and  inclining  to  the  latter  as  being 
more^icturesque  and  intimate,  when  she  went  on: 

"  Tenez,  what  is  it  your  comrades  call  you?    'Dog- 
gie?'" " 
"Say  that  again." 
"Dog-gie." 

He  had  never  dreamed  that  the  hated  appellation 
could  sound  so  adorable.    Well  —  no  one  except 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  igj 

his  oflScers  caJIttl  him  bv  nnv  «fi,. 

white  teeth.    He  laughed  ''P*  °^  ^^ 

"A  la  guerre  comme  a  la  auern-      If  «„..      •• 
that,  you  belong  to  the  regCm"    Xnll  ^'  *?« 
you  ,t  M  a  fine  regiment  ••  **  ''^"'-    ^^  ^  promise 
.';^  bien,  Monsieur  Doe-ine~" 
Iheres  no  Monsieur  about  if  "   K-.  j    i      j 

Wot  bL£'i7SL^oS'anrt„T'=  ^^  ^.°«?« 
fetid  hole  into  wS  he  wnnlH  r^  T*^™  «"^  "»« 
the  night's  marcliwLtr'^i^^ 
things.    Of  ToinettP    »j,^   ,  *  ""y  taiKed  of  smiple 

Morfneversiirrj^rem^^be^"   "'^'^  ^"'* 
"ei?  u  "^*'  *°°  '^^f  lieart  with  your  snuff  " 

•' What^iS"?"'  *"  ^«^«'  Sot"  '^*-    ^^' 
dies?"       ^'^  ^^PP^"  ^  y°"-  Jeanne,  if  your  aunt 

"Mon  Dim!"  said  Jeanne  — 
busif^??:""   ^^   ^^rit   the  property,   and   the 

wh'^^ar^abeadTVeiy^X  ""rm'^f  k^*'"  »  ->■ 

BenjSX^'chS  „rt''''u^^  ^'^  ^^  h« 
little  fortune  woTjd  ^«    t     ?l*^  ^^^l"    ^"*  ""  ^er 
whom  Jeare  h "d'tv"^,  ^,^^'  «''°'^«1  Gaspard 
But  the  Farm  of  La  Folette? 


192 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


If' 


IM. 


"It  has  been  taken  and  retaken  by  Germans  and 
French  and  EngUsh,  mon  pauvre  ami,  until  there  is 
no  farm  left.     You  ought  to  understand  that." 

It  was  a  thing  that  Doggie  most  perfectly  under- 
stood: a  patch  of  hideous  wilderness,  of  poisoned, 
shell-scarred,  ditch-defiled,  barren,  loathsome  earth. 
And  her  other  relations?  Only  an  uncle,  her 
father's  youngest  brother,  a  cuil  in  Douai  in  enemy 
occupation.  She  had  not  heard  of  him  since  the 
flight  from  Cambrai. 

|But  what  is  going  to  become  of  you?" 
"So  long  as  one  keeps  a  brave  heart  what  does 
it  matter?  I  am  strong.  I  have  a  good  enough 
education.  I  can  earn  my  living.  Oh,  don't  make 
any  mistake.  I  have  no  pity  for  myself.  Those 
who  waste  efforts  in  pitying  themselves  are  not  of 
the  stuff  to  make  France  victorious." 

"1  am  afraid  I  have  done  a  lot  of  seff-pitying, 
Jeanne." 
"Don't  do  it  any  more,"  she  said  gently. 
"I  won't,"  said  he. 

"If  ^you  keep  to  the  soiJ  you  have  gained,  you 
cjm't,"  said  Jeanne. 
"  Toujours  la  sagesse." 
"You  are  lauglung  at  me." 
"God  forbid,^'  said  Doggie. 
Phineas   and    Mo   came   strolling   towards   the 
kitchen  door. 

"My  two  friends,  to  pay  their  visit  of  adieu," 
said  he. 

Jeanne  slid  from  the  table  and  welcomed  the  new- 
comers in  her  calm,  dignified  way.  Once  more 
Doggie  found  hunseljf  regarding  her  as  his  senior 
in  age  and  wisdom  and  conduct  of  Ufe.  The  pathetic 
girhshness  which  she  had  revealed  to  him  had  gone. 
The  age-investing  ghosts  had  returned. 

Mo  grinned,  interjected  a  British  army  French 
word  now  and  then,  and  manifested  delight  when 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  193 

Doggie's   wIfaS.  ^  had  tn'T'^i^^^^^    ^^' 
used  the  word  "tofeMT"  ^   *"*°'"-    »« 

go  on^    TTie  lady  isn't  interest^""    °''  '^'^'''  *»»  * 

En^M^'Zl  '"Ittrests'=me''"^f^.*^«    '-* 
..  ' W,.  Mad«;SS:  '•  IT  ffiS    ^    „ 

I  only  wish  to  explain  to  yon  that  whll^'r  P"'"^- 
need  have  no  fear  for  DoS  I  wTn  ^^^«  y?" 
with  my  body  from  ^IipII?^  a  ^^  .Protect  him 
him  safe  h«ck  iTJ  \  "?^  Promise  to  bring 
ShenZ."  *°   y°"-    ^d   «>   wiU    Monsieuf 

"What's  that?"  asked  Mo. 
i;'nmeas  translated. 

and  ]5oggie  greTred  n^»  ^^^"""^  P«^«  cheek, 
cursed  triw  S'wth^Tnd'  ''^-  «i 
a  significant  glance  with  Mo  Je'«nn«  exchanged 
even  voice:  Jeanne  said  in  her 

^;i  hope  all  the  Three  Musketeers  wiU  come  back 
Mo  extended  a  grimy  hand     "W«ii         j  .^ 
She  sK*^ S"  ^r^^  I  -"'t  be  Sg  '^"''■''^'' 

isJSn'SSi'^""^''"  ^^°  '«-  y-    ITiat 

;;l^l?^^^^li^^-«-" 

"good:bVe,jei."''  '^'"-^^tly.   after   a   pause. 
Au  revoir  —  Dog-gie."     ^ 


194 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


IlI, 


"If  I  shouldn't  come  back  —  I  mean  if  we  were 
billeted  somewhere  else  —  I  should  like  to  write 
to  you." 

'  Well  —  Mademoiselle  Boissiere,  chez  Madame 
Morin,  Frdlus.    That  is  the  address." 

"And  will  you  write  too?" 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  scribbled  what 
was  necessary  on  a  sheet  torn  from  a  notebook  and 
gave  it  to  her.    Their  hands  met. 

"Au  revoir,  Jeanne." 

"Au  revoir,  Dog-gie.  But  I  shall  see  you  again 
to-night." 

"Where?" 

"  It  is  my  secret.    Bonne  chance." 

She  smiled  and  tiuued  to  leave  the  kitchen. 
Doggie  clattered  into  the  yard. 

'  Been  doin'  a  fine  bit  o'  coartin',  Doggie,"  said 
Private  Appleyard  from  Taunton,  who  was  sitting 
on  a  bcx  near  by  and  writing  a  letter  on  his  knees. 

"Not  so  much  of  your  coiirting,  Spud,"  replied 
Doggie  cheerfully.  Who  are  you  writing  to? 
Your  best  girl?" 

"I  be  writin'  to  my  own  lawful  mizzus,"  replied 
Spud  Appleyard. 

"Then  give  her  my  love.  Doggie  Trevor's  love," 
said  Doggie,  and  marched  away  Uu-ough  the  groups 
of  men. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  bam  he  fell  in  with  Phineas 
and  Mo. 

"Laddie,"  sedd  the  former,  "although  I  meant  it 
at  the  time  as  a  testimony  of  my  affection,  I've 
been  thinking  that  what  I  said  to  the  young  leddy 
may  not  have  been  over  tactful." 

"  It  wEis  taking  it  too  much  for  granted,"  explained 
Mo,  "  that  you  and  her  were  sort  of  keeping  company. 

"You're  a  pair  of  idiots,"  said  Doggie,  sitting 
down  between  them,  and  taking  out  his  pink  packet 
of  Caporal.    "Have  a  cigarette?" 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  195 

tobakker?"  ^^  01  u  He  am  t  got  no 

exhibit  Wlf  to  him      H.  l°°ii"°^"'?«^^°   to 
the  thought     TT?pr7^'     -J  '^5"''^  comfort  from 

torpid  o„,  i„  sifen^rttSSiTo™  £as- 

of  gloriom  war  a  v«TJ^  I  *''\P?°'P  and  circmnstance 

stern,  silent  agly  eonglrrat^foro?  ^^ '^  ^  ^^^ 
righ^^ieSbS!  "^^  '^^^*'"  ^°^led  Doggie's 
ch^^i^  ■^'^  «rfy«c</t^)"  Doggie  responded,  me- 


196 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


But  to  Doggie  it  was  less  " "  (adjective  <u 

before)  than  usual.  Jeanne's  denunciation  of  self- 
pity  had  struck  deep.  Compared  with  her  calanr  .les, 
half  of  which  would  have  been  the  stock-in-trade 
of  a  Greek  dramatist  wherewith  to  wring  tears  from 
mankind  for  a  couple  of  thousand  years,  what  were 

his  own  piffling  grievances?    As  for  the  " " 

night,  instead  of  a  drizzle,  he  woiild  have  welcomed 
a  waterspout.  Something  that  really  mattered.  .  .  . 
Let  the  Heavens  or  the  Hun  rain  molten  lead.  Some- 
thing that  would  put  him  on  an  equahty  with 
Jeaime  ...  Jeanne,  with  her  dark,  haunting  eyes 
and  mobile  lips,  and  the  slim,  young  figure  and  her 
splendid  courage.  A  girl  apart  from  the  girls  he 
had  known,  apart  from  the  women  he  had  known, 
the  women  whom  he  had  imagined  — and  he  had 
not  imagined  many  —  his  traming  had  atrophied 
such  imaginings  of  youth.  Jeanne.  Again  her 
namp  conjured  up  visions  of  the  Great  Jeanne  of 
Domremy.  If  only  he  could  have  seen  her  once 
again  I 

At  the  north  end  of  the  village  the  road  took  a 
sharp  twist,  skirting  a  bit  of  rismg  ground.  TTiere 
was  just  a  glimmer  of  a  wamiM;  light  which  streamed 
athwart  the  turning  ribbon  of  laden  ants.  And  as 
Doggie  wheeled  through  the  dim  ray,  he  beard  a 
voice  that  rang  out  clear. 

"Bonne  chance!" 

He  looked  up  swiftly.  Caught  the  shadow  of  a 
shadow.  But  it  was  enough.  It  was  Jeanne. 
She  had  kept  her  promise.  The  men  responded 
incoherently,  waving  their  hands,  and  Doggie's 
shout  of  "Merci!"  was  lost.  But  though  he  knew, 
with  a  wonderful  throbbing  knowledge,  that  Jeanne's 
cry  was  meant  for  him  alone,  he  was  thrilled  by  his 
comrades'  instant  response  to  Jeanne's  voice.  Not 
a  man  but  he  knew  that  it  was  Jeanne.  But  no 
matter.    The  company  paid    homage  to   Jeanne. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  197 

ItT'hJ^"  had  come  out  in  the  rain  and  the  dark 


I 


CHAPTER  XV 

INthe  village  of  Fr^lus  life  went  on  as  before. 
The  same  men,  though  a  different  regiment, 
failed  its  streets  and  its  houses;  for  by  what 
swns  could  the  inhabitants  distinguish  one  horde 
M  English  infantrymen  from  another?  Once  a 
Highland  battalion  had  been  billeted  on  them, 
and  for  the  firot  day  or  so  they  derived  some  ex- 
citement from  the  novelty  of  the  costume;  the 
tustonc  Franco-Scottish  tradition  still  lingered  and 
they  welcomed  the  old  allies  of  France  with  special 
kmdliness;  but  they  found  that  the  habits  and 
customs  of  the  men  in  kilts  were  identical,  in  their 
French  eyes,  with  those  of  the  men  in  trousers.  It 
IS  true  the  Scotch  had  bagpipes.  The  village  turned 
out  to  fasten  to  them  ui  whole-eyed  and  whole-eared 
wonder.  And  the  memory  of  the  skirling  music 
remamed  uidelible  Otherwise  there  was  little  dif- 
ference. And  when  «  Midland  regiment  succeeded 
a  fcouth  Coast  regiment,  where  was  the  difiference 
at  all?    They  might  be  the  same  men. 

Jeanne,  standing  by  the  kitchen  door,  watching 
the  famuiar  scene  in  the  courtyard,  could  scarcely 
beUeve  there  had  been  a  change.  Now  and  again, 
she  caught  herself  wondering  why  she  could  not 
pick  out  any  one  of  her  Three  Musketeers.  There 
were  two  or  three  soldiers,  as  usual,  helpuig  Toinette 
with  her  crocks  at  the  well,  '^here  she  was,  herself, 
moving  among  them,  as  courteously  treated  as 
though  she  were  a  princess.  Perhaps  these  men, 
whom  she  heard  had  come  from  manufacturing 
centres,  were  a  trifle  rougher  in  ;heir  manners  than 
her  late  guests;  but  the  intention  of  civility  and  rude 

198 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  199 

cMvalipr  was  no  less  sincere.    They  came  and  asked 
for  odcfs  and  ends  very  poUtely.    todl  intentS 
purposes  they  were  the  ^e  ^t  of  men     M.y  ^ 
not  Doggie  among  them?    It  seemed  very  sK^ 
After  a  while  she  made  some  sort  of  an  amS 
tence  with  a  sergeant  who  had  a  few  worTof  X^h 
^d  appeared  anxious  to  improve  his  knowledge  of 
the  language     He  explained  that  he  had  bJn  a 
iZ^'',  '"  ^"*  corresponded  to  the  French  fcofe* 
Normaks.    He  came  from  Birmingham,  which  hi 
E\'-   ^  "«'l''«t»nd  was  globed 'LUle     She 
wo«h,-n^  r^  ea^est    very^'self-centred  in  his 
worahip  of  efficiency.    As  he  had  striven  for  hirdMS 
of  boys  SO  now  was  he  striving  for  his  pktoon^ 
men     In  a  dogmatic  way  he  expoZlS  "S^^er 
Ideals  severely  practical.    In  their  l^w  casud  cSn 
versations  he   mterested  her.    The  Enrfish    f^™ 

£h  ^*  "^"^^Z  l«y  «f  *»>«-  as^iaS  wWi  he" 
lat^lv'°°^"^h"*^''','*^P^'^«tion.    bT^^ 
lately  — in  the  most  recent  past  — her  sex    hpr 
national  aloofness,  and  her  ignorance  of  EnS  had 
restrained  her  from  famili^-  talk  wil^f  fiS 
Army.    But  now  she  keenly  desired  to  JmdeSSS 
tlus  strange,  imperturbable,  kindly  race     Sh^^t 
many  questions  to  the  Sergeant -always  at  the 
kitchen  door  in  full  view  of  the  courtS  for  Se 
never  thought  of  admitting  him  into  th^W - 
hfL^f  .answers   even  when  he  managed  to  make 
himself  mte  hgible    puzzled  her  exceedingly     One 
of  h^  remarks  led  her  to  ask  for  what™Is  fi^^ 
Ti^IZ^  ^  apparently  fixed  idea  of  the  efficacy 
of  the   men   under   his   control.    What   was   the 
spiritual  idea  at  the  back  of  him? 

1  u  <lemocratisation  of  the  world  and  the  uni- 
versal brotherhood  of  mankind  " 

Gcril^lp^^^*'^'^  ^'"°  «^«"  ««  down  with  the 

He  flashed  a  suspicious  glance.    Strenuous  school- 


■ 


I 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

masters  in  primary  schools  have  little  time  for  the 
cultivation  of  a  sense  of  humom'. 

"Something  of  the  sort  must  be  the  ultimate 
result  of  the  war." 

"But  in  the  meantime  you  have  got  to  change  the 
German  wolf  into  the  petit  mouton.  How  are  you 
going  to  do  it?" 

"By  British  eflSciency.  By  proving  to  him  that 
we  are  superior  to  him  in  every  way.  We'll  teach 
him  that  it  doesn't  pay  to  be  a  wolf." 

"And  do  you  think  he  will  like  being  trans- 
formed into  a  lamb,  while  you  remain  a  lion?  " 

"I  don't  suppose  so,  but  we'll  give  him  his  chance 
to  try  to  become  a  lion,  too." 

Jeanne  shook  her  head.  "No,  Monsieur,  wolf 
he  18  and  wolf  he  will  remain.  A  wolf  with  venomous 
teeth.  The  civilised  world  must  see  that  the  teeth 
are  always  drawn." 

"I'm  speaking  of  fifty  years  hence,"  said  the  Ser- 
geant. 

"And  I  of  three  hundred  years  hence." 

"You're  mistaken,  Mademoiselle." 

Jeanne  shook  her  head.  "  No.  I'm  not  mistaken. 
TeU  me.  V\Tiy  do  you  want  to  become  brother  to 
the  Boche? 

"'',™  °?J  ^^'^K  *°  ^^  ^  brother  till  the  war  is 
over,  said  the  Sergeant  stohdN.  "At  present  I 
am  devoting  all  my  faculties  to  killing  as  many  of 
him  as  I  can." 

She  smiled.  "Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  good 
thereof.  Go  on  killing  them,  Monsieur.  The  more 
you  kill,  the  fewer  there  will  be  for  your  children 
and  your  p-andchildren  to  lie  down  with." 

She  left  him  and  tried  to  puzzle  out  his  philosophy. 
For  the  ordinary  French  philosophy  of  the  war  is 
very  simple.  They  have  no  high-falutin',  altruistic 
Ideas  of  unproving  the  Boche.  They  don't  care  a 
tmkers  curse  what  happens  to  the  unholy  brood 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  201 

^yond  the  Rhine,  so  long  as  they  are  beaten,  humil- 
ated.  subjected:  so  long  as  there  is  no  chance  of 
««^^^*''*-i  <^«fl°^«"ng  again  with  their  brutahty  the 
rtv!  .f  "^-^^  ^'T'^  ^he  French  mind  cannot  con- 
ceive the  Idea  of  this  beautiful  brotherhood;   but 

2liJt-*^T°7'  ■^^^''^  ''  ^  something  loathsome 
something  bordenng  on  spiritual  defilement.  . 

INo;  Jeanne  could  not  accept  the  theory  that  we 
were  wagmg  war  for  the  ultimate  chastemng  and 
beatification  of  Germany.  She  preferred  Doggie's 
reason  for  fighting.  For  his  soul.  There  was  wme- 
Uung  which  she  could  grip.  And  having  gripped 
It,  It  was  somethmg  around  which  her  imagination 
could  weave  a  web  of  noble  fancy.  After  aS,  when 
she  came  to  thmk  of  it,  every  one  of  the  allies  must 
be  faghtmg  for  his  soul  For  his  soul's  sake  had  not 
her  father  died?  Although  she  knew  no  word  of 
German,  It  was  obvious  that  the  Uhlan  officer  had 
murdered  hun  because  he  had  refused  to  betray 
his  country.  And  her  uncle.  To  fight  for  his  soul, 
had  he  not  gone  out  with  this  heroic  but  futile 
C^  *ri,^i?-  ^^  pragmatical  sergeant? 
w^Sr^i^*«i^  hun  from  his  schoohwm  to  the 

hke  Do    ie?        ^  ^^  ^  ^"""^^  ^"*  ^* 

She  missed  Dome.  He  ought  to  be  there,  as  she 
nad  otten  seen  him  unobserved,  talking  with  his 
fnends  or  gomg  about  his  mihtary  duties,  or  playing 
toe  flageolet  with  the  magical  touch  of  the  mSsician 
bhe  knew  far  more  of  Doggie  than  he  was  aware  of. 
■  ij-  ^^  **  night  she  prayed  for  the  UtUe  English 
soldier  who  was  facmg  Death. 

She  had  much  time  to  think  of  him  during  the 
hours  when  she  sat  by  the  bedside  of  Aunt  Morin 
who  talked  mcessantiy  of  Francois-Marie  who  was 
kUled  on  the  Argonne,  and  Gaspard  who,  as  a 
krritonal  was  no  doubt  defending  Madagascar 
trom  mvasion.    And  it  was  pleasant  to  thmk  of  him 


i 


202 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


because  he  was  a  new  distraction  from  tragical 
memones.    He  seemed  to  lay  the  ghosts.  ...    He 
was  different  from  all  the  Enghshmen  she  had  met. 
The  young  officers  who  had  helped  her  in  her  flight, 
had  venr  much  the  same  charm  of  breeding,  very 
much  the  same  intonation  of  voice:    instinctively 
^e  knew  him  to  be  of  the  same  social  caste:   but 
th^,  and  the  officers  whom  she  saw  about  the  street 
and  m  the  courtyard,  when  duty  called  them  there, 
had  the  mihtary  air  of  command.    And  this  her 
httle  Enghsh  soldier  had  not.    Of  course  he  was 
only  a  private,  and  privates  are  trained  to  obedience, 
bhe  knew  that  perfectly  well.    But  why  was  he  not 
commandm^   instead    of  obeying?    lliere   was   a 
reason  for  it.    She  had  seen  it  in  his  eyes.    She 
wished  she  had  made  him  talk  more  about  himself. 
Perhaps  she  had  been  unsympathetic  and  selfish. 
He  assumed,  she  reflected,  a  certain  cr&nerie  with 
his  fellows  —  and  cranerie  is  "swagger"  bereft  of 
vulgantj  —  we  have  no  word  to  connote  its  con- 
ception m  a  French  mind  — and  she  admired  it; 
but   her   swift  mtuition   pierced  the   assumption, 
bhe  divined  a  world  of  hesitancies  behind  the  Mus- 
keteer swing  of  the  shoulders.    He  was  so  gentle,  so 
sensiUve,   so   quick   to   imderstand.    And  yet   so 
proud.    And  yet  again  so  unconfessedly  dependent. 
Her  woman  s  protective  instinct  responded  to  a 
mute  appeal. 

"But,  Ma'amselle  Jeanne,  you  are  wet  through, 
you  are  perished  with  cold.  What  folly  have  you 
been  committing?"  Toinette  scolded  when  she 
returned  after  wishing  Doggie  the  last  "bonne 
chance. 

^  "The  folly  of  putting  my  Frenchwoman's  heart 
ymon  amr  de  Franaaise)  into  the  hands  of  a  brave 
httle  soldier  to  fight  with  him  in  the  trenches." 

Mm    Dieu,    Ma'amselle,    you    had    better    go 
straight  to  bed,  and  I  will  bring  you  a  bon  iilleui 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  203 

which  wiU  calm  your  nerves  and  produce  a  irood 
perspiration."  *^  »™" 

thf^'inT^ifki'*''?'  ■"'^f  to  bed  anf*  administered 
the  mfaUible  infusion  of  lime-leave,  and  Jelwne 
was  never  the  worse  for  her  adventure.  But  the- 
I!fki  •"/  ^t  T"?^'^'  8  little  why  she  had  mider- 
S  of  sy^^path?:"  "  ''^'  ''^'^  ">«*  •'  P^«*  «  "»^« 
An  evening  or  two  afterwards,  Jeanne  was  sewmg 
in  the  kitchen  when  Tomette,  sittmg  m  the  ai.* 
chair  by  the  extinct  fire,  fished  out  of  Her  pocket  tho 
litUe  ohve-wood  box  with  the  pansies  and  foriret- 
S.t"^j  •."  ^-l'"*'  ""'^  took  a  fong  pinch  of  snuff, 
hhe  did  It  with  somewhat  of  an  an-  which  caused 
Jeanne  to  smile.  «tu«5u 

"Dilesdonc,  Toinette,  you  are  insupportable  with 
yfj^^^;^^-    One  would  say  a  Mi^e  of X 

"Jl^^"  ^f '^"«  Jeanne,"  said  the  old  woman. 

you  must  not  laugh  at  me.    I  was  just  thinking 

that.  If  anythmg  happened  to  the  petit  MoruimF, 

ip  4^1d  S^'-^'  ^'"^  '°  «°  *"*  P""'^  ^  ^^^ 
"Nothing  will  happen  to  him,"  said  Jeanne. 
Ihepld  woman  sighed  and  re-engulfed  the  snuff- 
fiox.  Who  knows?  From  one  mmute  to  another 
who  knows  whether  the  litUe  ones  who  are  dear  to 
us  are  ahve  or  dead?" 

"And  this  petit  Monsieur  is  dear  to  you,  Toinette?" 
Jeanne  asked,  in  her  even  voice,  without  looking  ud 
irom  her  sewing.  °    *^ 

''Since  he  resembles  my  petiot." 
He  will  come  back,"  said  Jeanne. 
I  hope  so,"  said  the  old  woman  mournfully 
In  spit  of  manifold  duties,  Jeanne  found  the  days 
curiously  long     She  slept  badly.    The  tramp  of  the 
^ntr>'  below  her  window  over  the  archway  brought 
her  no  sense  of  comfort,  as  it  had  done  for  momhs 


204 


THE  BOUGH  ROAD 


ilk 


before  the  coming  of  Doggie.  All  the  lew  did  it 
produce  the  queer  litJe  thrill  of  happiness  which 
was  ben  when,  looking  down  through  the  shutter 
stats,  she  had  identified  in  the  darkness,  on  a  change 
of  Kuard,  the  little  EngUsh  soldier  to  whom  she  had 
spoken  so  mtimntely.  And  when  he  had  challenged 
the  Rounds,  she  had  recognised  his  voice.  ...  If 
she  had  obeyed  an  imbecile  and  unmaidenly  impulse 
L  ^?"'«' liave  drawn  open  the  shutter  and  revealed 
herself.  But  apart  from  maidenly  shrinkings,  fa- 
miliarity with  war  had  made  her  realise  the  sacred 
duties  of  a  sentry,  and  she  had  remained  in  discreet 
seclusion,  awake  until  his  spell  was  over.  But  now 
the  rhvthmical  beat  of  the  heavy  boots  kept  her 
frona  sleeping,  and  would  have  irritated  her  nerves 
mtolerably  had  not  her  sound  common-sense  told 
her  that  the  stout  fellow  wh,  wore  them  was  pro- 
tecting her  from  the  Hun,  together  with  a  milhon 
or  so  of  his  fellow-countrymen. 

She  found  herself  counting  the  days  to  Doede's 
return.  "" 

.•'«L'***'  '^  ^  to-morrow  I"  she  said  to  Toinette. 
What  18  It  to-morrow?"  asked  the  old  woman. 
The  return  of  our  regiment,"  r<^plied  Jeanne. 
That  is  good.    We  have  a  regiment  now,"  said 
1  omette,  iromcally. 

The  Midland  company  marched  away  — as  so 
many  had  marched  away  before;  bu,'  Jeanne  did 
not  go  to  the  httle  embankment  at  the  turn  of  the 
road  to  wish  anyone  good  luck.  She  stood  at  the 
house  door,  as  she  had  always  done,  to  watch  them 
pass  m  the  darkness;  for  there  is  alwpvs  something 
m  the  sight  of  men  going  into  battle  which  gives 
you  a  lump  m  the  throat.  For  Jeanne  it  had  ahnost 
grown  into  a  religious  practice. 

The  Sergeant  bad  told  her  that  the  newcomers 
would  arrive  at  dawn.  She  slept  a  little;  awoke 
with  a  start  as  day  began  ti^  break;  dressed  swiftly. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


20S 


and  wen»,  downstairs  to  wair.  And  then  her  ear 
caught  the  rumble  and  the  tramp  of  the  approach- 
mg  battahon.  PresenUy  transport  rolled  by.  and 
squads  of  men,  haggard  in  the  grey  light,  bending 
double  under  their  packs,  staggered  along  to  their 
bilieU.  And  then  came  a  rusty  crew,  among  whom 
she  recogniEed  McPhail's  tall,  gaunt  figure.  She 
stood  by  the  gateway,  bareheaded,  in  her  black 
dress  and  blue  apron,  defying  the  sharp  morning 
air,  and  watched  them  pass  through.  She  saw 
Mo  Shendish,  his  eyes  on  the  heels  of  the  man  in 
front.  She  recognised  nearly  all.  But  the  man  she 
looked  for  was  not  there. 

He  could  not  have  passed  without  her  seeing  him; 
but  as  soon  as  the  gateway  was  clear,  she  ran  into 
the  courtyard  and  fled  across  it  to  cut  off  the  men. 
There  was  no  Doggie.  Blank  disappointment  was 
succeedsd  by  sudden  terror. 

Phineas  saw  her  coming.  He  stumbled  up  to  her, 
dropped  his  pack  at  her  fest,  and  spread  out  b  >'h 
his  hands.  She  lost  sight  of  the  horde  of  wean-,  ciay- 
covered  men  aroimd  her.    She  cried: 

"Where  is  he?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"He  is  dead?" 

"No  one  knows." 

"But  you  most  know,  you  I"  cried  Jeanne,  with 
R  new  fear  m  her  eyes  which  Phineas  could  not  bear 
to  meet,    "  You  promised  to  bring  him  back." 

"It  was  not  my  fault,"  said  Phineas.  "He  was 
out  on  patrol  last  ni^ht  —  no,  the  night  before,  this 
is  morning  —  repainng  barbed  wire.  I  was  not 
with  him. 

"Mais,  mon  Dieu,  why  not?" 

"Because  the  duties  of  soldiers  ere  arranged  for 
them  by  their  oflBcers,  Mademoiselle." 

|]Itistiue.    Pardon.    But  continue." 

"k  party  went  out  to  repair  wire.    It  was  quite 


206 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I,  I  1  if 

^  1  ilk 

I!  trU 


«I?™  Suddenly  a  Gennan  rifle-shot  gave  the 
&;  ^u  enemy  threw  up  star-shells  and  the 
front  trenches  on  each  side  opened  fire.  The  wirinir 
party  of  course  lavflat  on  the  ground.  One  of  theS 
was  wounded.  When  it  was  aU  over, -it  didn™ 
-ast  long,  -  our  men  got  back  bringing  the  wounded 
insuim 

;;He  is  severely  woundedP     Speak,"  cried  Jeanne. 

lUe  wounded  man  was  not  Doggie.    Doeeie 

went  out  with  the  patrol  but  he  did  not  come  ffi 

inat  s  why  I  said  no  one  knows  where  he  is." 

dead.^'  ^*^*'°^-    ""«  »«  'y^g  out  there.    He  is 

"Shendish  and  I  and  Corporal  Wilson,  over  there 

Iter  vt  ^'  P.^^'  r  P^T^'°°  *«  P  °"S 
h^t.  ■  '^^ed  an  round  where  tie  repairs 
had  been  going  on.    But  we  could  not  find  him  '^ 

.h^.^A,  i-,°"^^L'?°'^  ^  h«^e  reproached  you," 
she  said  steadily.     " C'est  un  grand  malheur."     ^ 

value""  ^^  "^        ^^  ^'"'  ™^  ''  °°  '°°»e'  of  "nuch 
She  looked  at  him  in  her  penetratin-  way. 

aurU/r     Y  y""'  \^«  ^^-     "Fo^^he 'moment. 
s^T  ^.  u°^  ™"f *  ^%  ""o™  «"t  with  fatigue." 
She  left  hun  and  walked  through  the  straggling 

men,  who  made  respectful  way  for  Ler.    All  C 

the  nature  of  this  interview.  They  hked  Doggie 
because  he  was  good-natured  and  plucky,  and  nl^r 
complamed  and  would  play  the  whist^  on  m^ch 
as  long  as  breath  enough  remained  in  his  body  As 
his  micle    the  Dean,  had  said,  breed  told.  ^  In  a 

iTr,'  ''f  J''"'l^'il?  ^^y  ^^^y  recognised  the  fact 
They  laughed  at  his  singular  inefficiency  in  the 
multitudmous  arts  of  the  handy  man,  proficiencv  in 
which  IS  expected  from  the  moderA  CivatT'^bi? 

And  knowing  that,  they  saved  him  from  m^y  a 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  207 

reprimand  which  his  absurd  efforts  in  the  arts 
aforesaid  would  have  brought  upon  him.  And  ^ 
that  Dogpe  was  gone,  they  deplored  his  loss.  But 
80  many  Vd  gone.  So  many^ad  been  dlpbr^ 
Human  nature  .s  only  capable'  of  a  certain  ZoS 
of  deplonng  whJe  retainmg  its  sanity.  The  men 
let  the  pale  French  girl,  who  was  Doggie  Trev^r^ 
fnend,  pass  by  m  respectful  silence -^d  that  fo? 
them  was  their  final  tribute  to  Doggie  Trevor 

Jeanne  pa^ed  into  the  kitchen.    Toinette  drew 
a  sharp  breath  at  the  sight  of  her  face. 

^Quot?    II  n'est pas  la?" 
■     ^^'"  ^^  Jeanne.    "He  is  wounded,"    It  was 
mijpossible  to  explain  to  Toinette. 
Badly?" 
"They  don't  know." 

"Oh,   la,lh!"   sighed   Toinette.     "That  alwava 
hawens.    That  is  what  I  told  you."  ^ 

JeamS.  ^^^^  "**  *^^  to  think  of  such  thmgs,"  said 

an?Lo!f^h^^  """^^  '^"  "P  ^"^  ^^^  hot  water, 
^i?  J^^-.u™Fy'  "^^^^  nerve-racked  men 
were  served  with  the  mommg  meal.  And  Jeanne 
f.Tl"?  ^^  courtyard  in  front  of  the  kitchen  dTr 
and  helped  with  the  fiUing  of  the  tea-kettles  n« 
though  no  httle  Enghsh  soldier  c^ed  "DSie^ 
had  ever  existed  in  the  regiment 

kitlJpn^*  ^^i  ^^^^  °^  '"^'gJ't  fell  upon  the 
lutchen  side  of  the  courtyard,  and  in  it  Jean^  stood 
Jlurnmated.  It  touched^  the  shades  of  gold  in  hS 
dark  brown  hair,  and  ht  up  her  pale  fact  and  great 
mismding  eyes.  But  her  U^s  smil^  valiant^ 
sauS  t  r  f'"^.'  ^^?A'  ^'^  Mo  Shendish. 
re^a%?wiront&?*^""  '°  ^°"  '""^  ^^'■^  -- 
"Man,"  replied  Phineas,  "all  I  know  is  that  she 
has  added  him  to  her  collection  of  gholts  Ks  not 
an  over  braw  company  for  a  lassie  to  live  with." 


208 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


And  then,  soon  afterwards,  the  trench-broken 
men  stumbled  into  the  bam  to  sleep,  and  all  was 
quiet  again,  and  Jeanne  went  about  her  daily  tasks 
with  the  famihar  hand  of  death  once  more  closing 
icily  around  her  heart. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  sick  room  was  ver,  hot  and  Aunt  Morin 
very  querulous.    Jeanne  opened  a  window, 
r  \    1^  ^°'™  complained  of  currents  of 
air.    LA  Jeanne  want  to  kill  her?     So    Jeanne 
closed  the  wmdow.    The  internal  malady  from  which 
Aunt  Morm  suffered,  and  from  which  it  was  unhkely 
that  she  would  recover,   caused  her  considerable 
pam  from  tune  to  tune;  and  on  these  occasions  she 
grew  fractious  and  hard  to  bear  with.    The  retu-ed 
septuagenanan  village  doctor  who  had  taken  the 
modest  practise  of  his  son,  now  far  away  with  the 
army,    advised   mi   operation.    But   Aunt   Morin 
with  her  peasant  s  prejudice,  decUned  flatly.    She 
fcaew  what  happened  in  those  hospitals  where  they 
cut  people  up  just  for  the  pleasilre  of  lookL-  at 
their  msides.    She  was  not  gomg  to  let  a  lot  of 
Oht^f  ^T  .tl^T'^lves  with  her  old  carcase. 
Uh,  mm!    When  it  pleased  the  hon  Dieu  to  take  her 
she  was  ready:    the  bon  Dieu  required  no  assist 
tance  from  ces  rwssj^urs.    And  even  if  she  had  con- 
sented how  to  take  her  to  Paris,  and  once  there,  how 
to  get  the  operation  perfonned,  with  aU  the  hospitals 
tuU  and  all  the  surgeons  at  the  front?    The  old 
doctor  shrugged  his  shouldera  and  kept  hfe  in  her 
as  best  he  might. 

f  ^tt^^^i'  ^  ^^  '^^^^  '■°°'"'  ^^^  toW  a  long  story 
ot  the  doctors  neglect.  The  medicine  he  gave 
her  was  water  and  nothing  else  -  water  with  no& 

not  pa^.     What  would  Jeanne  advise? 
Oui,  ma  tank,"  said  Jeanne. 

209 


210 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"Oui,  ma  tanle?  But  you  are  not  listening  to 
what  I  say.    At  least  one  can  be  polite." 

''I  am  listening,  ma  fante." 

"You  should  be  grateful  to  those  who  lodge  and 
nourish  you." 

"I  am  grateful,  ma  iante,"  said  Jeanne  patiently. 

Aunt  Morin  complained  of  being  robbed  on  all 
sides.  The  doctor,  Toinette,  Jeanne,  the  English 
soldiers  —  the  last  the  worst  of  all.  Besides  not 
paying  suflSciently  for  what  they  had,  they  were  so 
wasteful  in  the  things  they  took  for  nothing.  If 
they  begged  for  a  few  faggots  to  make  a  fire,  they 
walked  away  with  the  whole  wood-stack.  She 
knew  them.  But  all  soldiers  were  the  same.  They 
thought  that,  in  time  of  war,  civilians  had  no 
rights.  One  of  these  days  she  would  get  up  and 
come  downstairs  and  see  for  herself  the  robbery  that 
was  going  on. 

The  windows  were  tightly  sealed.  The  sunlight 
hurting  Aunt  Morin's  eyes,  the  outside  shutters 
were  half  closed.  The  room  felt  Uke  a  stuffy,  over- 
heated, over-crowded  sepulchre.  An  enormous  oak 
press,  part  of  her  Breton  dowry,  took  up  most  of 
the  side  of  one  wall.  This,  together  wiUi  a  great 
handsome  bahul,  a  couple  of  tables,  a  stiff  armdiair, 
were  all  too  big  for  the  moderately-sized  apartment. 
Coloured  prints  of  sacred  subjects,  tilted  at  violent 
angles,  seemed  eager  to  occupy  as  much  air  space 
as  possible.  And  m  the  middle  of  the  floor  sprawled 
the  vast  oaken  bed,  with  its  heavy  green  brocade 
curtains  falling  tentwise  from  a  great  tarnished 
gilt  crown  in  the  ceiling. 

Jeaime  s<  id  nothing.  What  was  the  good?  She 
shifted  the  invalid's  hot  pillow  and  gave  her  a  drink 
of  tisane,  moving  about  the  over-furnished,  airless 
room  in  her  calm  and  efiScient  way.  Her  face 
showed  no  sign  of  trouble,  but  an  iron  band  clamped 
her  forehead  above  her  burning  eyes.    She  could 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


211 


perform  her  nurse's  duties,  but  it  was  beyond  her 
power  to  concentrate  her  mind  on  the  sick  woman's 
unending  litany  of  grievances.  Far  away  beyond 
that  darkened  room,  beyond  that  fretful  voice,  she 
saw  vividly  a  hot  waste,  hideous  with  holes 
and  rusted  wire  and  shapes  of  horror;  and  in  the 
middle  of  it  lay  huddled  up  a  little  khaki-clad 
figure  with  the  sun  blazing  fiercely  in  h^  unblinking 
eyes.  And  his  very  body  was  beyond  the  reach 
of  man,  even  of  the  most  hon-hearted. 

"Mais  qu'as-tu,  ma  Rile?"  asked  Aunt  Morin. 
'You  do  not  speak.  When  people  are  ill  they  need 
tvi  be  amused.' 

"I  am  sorry,  ma  tank,  but  I  am  not  feeling  very 
w  fcU  to-day.    It  will  pass. ' ' 

"I  hope  so.    Young  people  have  no  business  not 
to  feel  well.    Otherwise  what  is  the  good  of  youth?  " 
"It  is  true,"  Jeaime  assented. 
But  what,  she  thought,  was  indeed  the  good  of 
youth,  in  these  terrible  days  of  war?    Her  own  was 
but  a  panorama  of  death.  .  .  .    And  now  one  more 
figure,  this  time  one  of  youth,  too,  had  joined  it. 
Toinette  came  in. 

"Ma'amselle    Jeanne,    there    are    two    F-nglish 
officers  downstairs  who  wish  to  speak  to  you." 
"What  do  they  want?"  Jeanne  asked  wearily. 
"They  do  not  say.    They  just  ask  for  Ma'am- 
selle Boissiere." 

"They  never  leave  one  in  peace,  ces  gem-lh" 
grumbled  Aunt  Morin.  "If  they  want  more  con- 
cessions in  price,  do  not  let  them  frighten  you. 
Go  to  Monsieur  le  Maire  to  have  it  arranged  with 
justice.  These  people  would  eat  the  skin  off  your 
back.  _  Remember,  Jeanne." 
"Bien,  ma  tank,"  said  Jeanne. 
She  went  downstairs,  conscious  of  gripping  her- 
self in  order  to  discuss  with  the  officers  whatever 
business  of  billeting  was  in  hand.    For  she  had  dealt 


212 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


with  aU  such  matters  since  her  arrival  in  Frdlus. 
She  reached  the  front  door  and  saw  a  dustr^u^ 
with  a  mihtary  chauffeur  at  the  wheel,  and  two 
officers  standing  on  the  pavement  at  fhe  foot  of  the 
steps.  One  she  recogmsed  as  the  commander  of 
the  company  to  which  her  biUeted  men  belonged. 
The  other  was  a  stranger,  a  heutenant,  with  a 
different  badge  on  his  cap.  They  were  taUdng  and 
laughing  together,  like  oil  friends  newly  met,  whkh 
rlirti,  ^  myriad  coincidences  of  the  war,  was 
reaUy  the  case.  On  the  appearance  of  Jeanne,  they 
drew  themselves  up  and  saluted  politely.  ^ 

Mademoiselle  Boissiere.^" 
sieuS?"  ^""*'^"''-"    Then,  "WiU  you  enter.  Mes- 
They  entered  the  vestibule  where  the  great  cask 

fct^-^JsB^  -^''^-"^  --*  '^^-  ^' 

the  name  of  Trevor,"  said  the  stranger.  m™Uent 
French,  taking  out  notebook  and  pencil       ^''''^"^°* 

thS^^^^d  p"  ^'"^  ^'^''-  ^^^  ""^^  °°*  '^^^^ 

[[Oui,  Monsieur." 

"^}^  7°^}^^'^^  ™"*  talk  with  him?" 
^  Much.  Monsieur." 

mj'ljt^^''"''  ™^  indiscretion.  Mademoiselle  -  it  is 
mihtojr  service,  and  I  am  an  Intelligence  Officer - 
but  Wypu  teU  him  about  your  privlte  dTa^s?" 

Very  mtmiately,"  said  Jeanne. 
«Ju^  Intelligence  officer  made  a  note  or  two  and 
smiled  pleasantly -but  Jeanne  could  have  struck 
him  for  daring  to  smile.     "You  had  every  re" 
for^tbplung  him  a  man  of  honour="  ' 

ersS^rL'tJn'^n'*   of  asking     ^r  that,  Smith- 
"wlwtPi^-  Willoughby  mterrup.    I  in  EngUsh. 
Haven  t  I  given  you   my  word.»    The  man's  a 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  213 

mysterious  little  deva.  but  any  fool  can  see  that 
ne  s  a  gentleman. 
''What  do  you  say?"  Jeanne  asked  tensely. 

WillnLC"  ^™"f<"».  W«  peu,"  replied  Captain 
WUlouehby  with  an  air  of  regret. 

^f™w  1,  ^'^P'^ed-  "Monsieur  le  Capitaine 
Trevo?"         guarantees  the  honesty  of  theLdier 

Jeanne   flashed,    rigid.    "Who   could   doubt   it, 

SlnSish  ''^^tZlSf'"^'  "^'*  '^^'™''^'  °' 
Excuse  me  for  a  moment,"  said  Smithers. 

«nf;t  T"\  °"*H,n^^°V^'  uncomprehendmg,  sat 
silent.  Captam  WJloughby,  cursing  an  idiot  edu- 
cation, composed  m  his  head  a  poUte  French  sentence 
concemmg  the  weather,  but  before  he  had  finished 

fn°}!.^^'^r^P£^^^^^'*^  «  ^^'■«"«e  t^^ted  packet 
™  his  hand.  He  held  it  out  to  Jeanne. 
Mademoiselle,  do  you  recognise  this?" 
bhe  looked  at  it  dully  for  a  moment;  then  sud- 
denly sprang  to  her  feet  and  clenched  her  hands  and 
stared  open-niouthed.  She  nodded.  She  could  not 
speak.  Her  bram  swam.  They  had  come  to  her 
about  Doggie  who  was  dead,  and  they  showed  her 

beteSTtKor'^"    '^''  ^^  '""^  — «- 

Waioughby  rose  impulsively.  "For  God's  sake, 
bmithers,  et  her  down  easy.  She'll  be  faintmg  aU 
over  the  place  in  a  nunute." 

"If  this  is  your  property.  Mademoiselle."  said 
hmithers,  laying  the  packet  on  the  cheniUe  covered 
table,  you  have  to  thank  your  friend  Trevor  for 
restormg  it  to  you. 

She  put  up  both  hands  to  her  reeUng  head. 

^^  But  he  IS  dead,  Monsieur ! " 
^^'jNot  a  bit  of  it.    He's  just  as  much  aUve  as  you 

Jeanne  swayed,  tried  to  laugh,  threw  herself  hah 


214  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

on  a  chair,  half  over  the  great  cask,  and  broke 
down  m  a  passion  of  tears. 

T^e  two  men  looked  at  each  other  uncomfortably 

For  exquisite  tact,"  said  WUioughby,  "commend 

metoanlnteUigenceMan."  "»     '•       ""-="" 

"But  how  the  deuce  was  I  to  know?"  Smithers 
muttered,  with  an  injured  air.  "My  instructions 
were  to  find  out  the  truth  of  a  cock-and-bull  story  — 
for  toats  what  it  seemed  to  come  to.    And  a  jrirl 

"  ''.M  '?.r"'^®"~*»°^  was  I  to  know  what  she 
wasUke? 

"Anyhow,  here  we've  got  hysterics,"  said  Will- 
loughby. 

^^  But  who  told  her  the  fellow  was  dead?  " 
Why,  his  pals.    I  thought  so  myself.    When  a 
man  s  missing,  where's  ore  to  suppose  him  to  be  — 
havmg  supper  at  the  Savoy?" 

"W^ll,  I  give  women  up,"  said  Smitheis.  "I 
thought  she  d  be  glad." 

"l  believe  you're  a  married  man." 

'Yes,  of  course." 

"  WeU,  I  ain't,"  said  WiUoughby.  And  in  a  couple 
of  stades  he  stood  close  to  Jeanne.  He  laid  a  gentle 
nand  on  her  heaving  shoulders. 

"Pas  tat!    Soolmong  blesse,"  he  shouted. 

hhe  sprang,  as  it  were,  to  attention,  like  a  fright- 
ened recrmt.  * 

"He  is  wounded?" 

"Not  very  seriously,  MademoiseUe."  Smithers 
castmg  an  mdignant  glance  at  his  superior  officer's 
complacent  smile,  reassumed  mastery  of  the  situa- 
tion. A  Boche  sniper  got  him  in  the  leg.  It  wiU 
put  him  out  of  service  for  a  month  or  two.  But 
there  is  no  danger." 
"Gr&ce  d  Dieu!"  said  Jeanne. 
She  leaned,  for  a  while,  against  the  cask,  her 
hands  behmd  her,  lookmg  away  from  the  two  men. 
And   tlie   two  yomig  men   stood,  somewhat   em- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


215 


bMrassed,  looking  away  from  her  and  from  each 
otfter.  At  last  she  said,  with  an  obvious  striving 
lor  the  even  note  in  her  voice: 

"I  ask  your  pardon,  Messieurs,  but  sometimes 
sudden  happmess  is  more  overwhehning  than  mis- 
fortune. I  am  now  quite  at  your  service." 
I  uJ  u  '  **'*  "  wonder,"  murmured  Wil- 
loughby,  who  was  fair,  unmarried  and  impression- 
able.      Go  on  with  your  dirty  work." 

Smithers,  dark  and  lean  — in  civi'  life  he  had 
been  concerned  with  the  wine  trade  in  Bordeaux  — 
proceeded  to  carry  out  his  instructions.  He  turned 
over  a  leaf  m  his  notebook  and  poised  a  ready  pencil 
1  must  ask  you,  Mademoiselle,  some  formal 
questions. 

.'.'P«rf'ec%.  Monsieur,"  said  Jeanne. 

Where  was  this  packet  when  last  you  saw  it?" 
She  made  her  statement,  cahnly. 
'Can  you  tell  me  its  contents? 

{n  fKo  S*li'  ^°^^'^-  I'  as  a  young  girl,  was  not 
m  the  full  confidence  of  my  parents.  But  I  re- 
member niy  uncle  saying  there  were  about  twenty 
thousand  francs  m  notes,  some  gold,  I  know  not 
How  much  some  jewellery  of  my  mother's  — oh, 
a  big  handful  I  — rings  — one  a  hoop  of  emeralds 
and  diamonds  — a  brooch  with  a  black  pearl  be- 
lonpng  to  my  great  grandmother  — " 
.  "J^  ^  enough.  Mademoiselle,"  saiu  Smithere, 
jotting  down  notes.  "Anything  else  besides  money 
and  jewellery?  •' 

"There  were  papers  of  my  father,  share  certifi- 
cates, bonds,  —  que  sais-je,  moff  " 

Captain  Smithers  opened  the  packet  which  had 
already  been  examined. 

"You're  a  witness,  WiUoughby,  to  the  identifi- 
cation of  the  property." 

"No,"    said    WiUoughby.    "I'm    just    a    baby 
captam  of  mfantry,  and  wonder  why  the  brainy 


216 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Intelli^nce  department  doesn't  hand  the  mrl  her 
belongings  and  decently  clear  out."  ^ 

stifflyy^  *°*  *°  °"^^  ™^  '^P"^'  ^^■"  '»^**  Smithere, 
So  the  schedule  was  produced  and  the  notes  were 
solemnly  counted  twenty-one  thousand  five  W 
dred  francs,  and  the  gold  four  hundred  fran^.  aTd 
the  jewels  were  laentSied.  and  the  bonds,  of  v^Wch 
Jeanne  luiew  nothing,  were  checked  by  a  list  in  her 
father  s  handwriting,  and  Jeanne  signed  a  paper  wiS 
Smithers's  fountain  pen,  and  Willoughby  witne^ 
S hSSge.^'^  ^"^  ^^^  entered  fntJ^I^ 

deSn'edThr.  ^'''  ^"*  "^  *^^«"^'  ">-'  '-^- 

bew!lHl^""A^°r"  must  pardon  me,  but  I  am  quite 
bewildered.    As  far  as  I  can  understand.  Monsieur 
Trevor  rescued  the  packet  from  the  well  at  irY3e" 
^«™°^ La  Folette.  and  got  wounded  in  doing  s^"' 
.. P**  »,''"'**  ^'    ^'d  Smithers. 

SnuUiers    turned    to    Willoughby.    "Yes     How 
the  dickens  did  he  know  the  exact  s^t  to  grfbr?" 

th»  f  Jfif  u  *"  "T  *  "^"^  ^<=t°''  and  I  was  getting 
the  topography   right   with   a  map.     Trevor  waf 

f^  V  *^.°S«v.'?°*^"^^  «"'*  ««  he's  a  man  of^uTa- 
o.  the  farm  marked  by  name,  and  the  ruined  weU 
away  over  to  the  left  in  No  Man's  Land.    I  re- 

^^^^I^""  -^  ^^^^  ^^  *'"*  'La  Folettol'  in  a 
startled  voice  and  when  I  asked  him  what  was  the 
matter,  he  said  ' Nothing,  sir. '" 

Smithers  translated  and  continued:  "You  see 
MademoiBcUe  this  is  ^hat  happened  as  far  as  I  a^' 
concerned.    I  am  attached  to  the  Lancashire  Fusi- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  217 

li^lL  f^J'a'tal'on  »  in  the  trenches  about  three 
miles  further  up  the  Une  than  our  friends.  WeU 
n™,  .1,  **"''"  yesterday  morning,  a  man  roUed 
^nTfJ^"  ^«'«P«'  ">to  o"r  trench,  and  promptly 
hT^-  A  f  ^^^  ^^?  wounded  in  the  leg  and  was 
half  dead  from  loss  of  blood.  Under  his  tuiuc  was 
tks  package.  We  identified  him  and  his  regiment 
and  fixed  Turn  up  and  took  him  to  the  dFessingl 
station.  But  thmgs  looked  very  suspicious.  Here 
was  a  man  who  did  not  belong  to  us  with  a  little 
fortune  in  loot  on  his  person.    As  soon  as  he  was 

Hp^«M  f  h '^?^??^i;  *^^  ^-  0.  took  him  in  hand. 
He  told  the  C.  0.  about  you  and  your  story  He 
regarded  the  nearness  of  the  weU  as  somethinj:  to 
do  with  Destiny,  and  resolved  to  get  you  back  your 
property -if  it  was  still  there.    The  opportimity 

^^"^.t  ""w"  .u^^  •'^'TK  .P^ty  was^^'alarmeZ 
He  crept  out  to  the  rums  by  the  weU,  fished  out  the 
packet   and  a  smper  got  him.    He  managed  to  get 

^fdi!S  -T  ^^'  ^'"u'^  '°*'  ^^  ^«y  a  bit,  ^d 
tumbled  mto  our  trench. 

"But  he  was  in  danger  of  death  aU  the  time," 

said  Jeanne,  losmg  the  steadiness  of  her  voic- 

He   was     Every  second.     It  was   one  of  the 

most  dare-devil,  scatter-brained  things  I've   ever 

Wd  of.    And  IVe  heard  of  many,  ifademois^Ile' 

will  betua'd.^^''  "^'"'  ""'  '^^«  '^^''^'  h« 
"Punished?"  cried  Jeanne. 

fSJ^wu^^uu^'^'^^y/  ^^"S**^  Smithers.  "Cap- 
tain Willoughby  wifl  see  to  that.  But  reflect 
MademoiseUe.  His  military  duty  was  to  remain 
with  his  comrades,  not  to  go  and  risk  his  life  to 
get  your  property  Anyhow,  it  is  clear  tnat  he 
was  not  out  for  loot.  .  Of  course  they  sent 
me  here  as  In  Ihgence  Officer,  to  get  corroboration 
ti  L  j"^•..A^^  P®"^^  '<«■  a  "moment.  Then 
he   added.     "Mademoiselle,    I   must  congratulate 


218  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

you  on  the  reBtoration  of  your  fortune  and  the 
poMewion  of  a  very  brave  friend." 
For  the  first  time  the  red  spot«  bumed  on  Jeanne's 

'.'."if  ""**  ''"nercU  infinimml,  Moruieur." 
II  ten  aU  right."  said  WUloughby. 

The  officers  saluted  and  went  their  ways.  Jeanne 
took  up  her  packet  and  mounted  to  her  Uttle  room 
m  a  dream.  Then  she  sat  down  on  her  bed,  the 
unopened  packet  by  her  side,  and  strove  to  reahse 
It  all.  But  the  only  articulate  thought  came  to 
her  m  the  words  which  she  repeated  over  and  over 
agam: 

"IlafaUcela  pour  moil  II  a  fait  cela  pour  moil" 
He  had  done  that  for  her.  It  was  incredible. 
faatMtic,  thriJJingly  true,  like  the  fairy-tales  of  her 
cMdhopd.  The  little,  sensitive  Enghsh  soldier 
whom  his  comrades  protected.  whoma«'  heiseL  •{ 
a  fMnmme  wav  longed  to  protect,  had  don(  this 
for  her.  In  a  shy,  almost  reverent  way,  she  opened 
out  the  waterproof  covering,  as  though  to  reassure 
herself  of  the  reahty  of  thm«.  For  the  first  tune 
smce  she  left  Lambrai  a  smile  came  into  her  eyes, 


together  with  grateful  tears. 
'  //  a  fail  cela  pour  moi!    II 


a  fan  cela  pour  moi!" 

A  while  later  she  relieved  Toinette's  guard  in  the 
sick  room. 

"Eh  6ien?  And  the  two  officers,"  queried  Aunt 
Morm  after  Toinette  had  gone.  "  They  have  stayed 
a  long  tune.    What  did  they  want?" 

Jeanne  was  young.  She  had  eaten  the  bread  of 
dependence  which  Aunt  Morin,  by  reason  of  racial 
mstmct  and  the  stress  of  sorrow  and  infirmity  had 
contnved  to  render  very  bitter.  She  could  not 
repress  an  exultant  note  m  her  voice.  Doggie  too 
accounted  for  something,  i.jr  murh.  ' 

"They  came  to  bring  good  news,  ma  lank.    The 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  219 

EneL-rfi  have  found  all  the  money  and  the  jewela 

"Mon  Dieu!    It  is  true?" 
"Omi,  ma  tanle." 

!.'y°**..^®^  ^"^''  "^tofed  them  to  you?" 
Af  "l«»t^).!L*p"1J1"y-     ''  ^  ^^y  extraordinary! 

aS/^m  *  -S  anything."  said  Jeanne. 
.),«   ♦    .^"j"  ^""eojed  for  a  few  moments,  then 
she  stretched  out  a  thin  hand. 

"I  2  /wf'te  Jeann«  cherie.  you  are  rich  now." 
.  1  don  t  know  exactly."  replied  Jeanne  with  a 
Kit-^"^'^  ""'  *=«"^°°-      '  have  en^ghfo^ 
^'How  did  it  all  happn?" 
^Il  was  part  of  a  mihtary  operation,"  said  Jeanne 

iwgpe.  But  now  the  thing  was  too  sacred.  Aunt 
^Z-:^^'^  que8Uon..quesUon  maddenSy.  u^l 
the  rainbow  of  her  fairy-tale  was  unwovpn      Thl 

f'i^T  ^rU°^  ^''^  T«^«^  «f  herTrt^e  wr;noSh 
for  Aunt  Morm.     It  was.    The  old  woman  of  t!e 

SZr^t  eT^  ''"'"'  ''  ""''  -tfullyirt 

much^'re^abneP'  '"'  """*  ^""^  '"^^  ^^  - 

inH;l*o'.T'*"?.«'^™'^.'^"'  "ww'wn.'"  cried  Jeanne 
mdi«iantly.      What  do  you  think  I  am  made^" 
.Ml  ^breathed  Aunt  Morin,  comforted. 

way,     sj  tu  veux,  I  will  henceforward  pay  for  m- 

lod^mg  and  nourishment."  ^*  ^ 

You  are  very  good,  my  little  Jeanne,"  said  Aunt 


220 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Morin.  "That  wiU  be  a  great  help,  for  vois-tu.  we  are 
very  poor* 

"Oui,  nm  tank.    It  is  the  war." 
notW^  St.""'  ^^  """'  *^'  "'^"'  ''"'    °°^  *»«« 

fJ^T^-  ^°^^-r  -^^t  ^"^^  had  a  very  com- 
fortably mvested  fortune  left,  for  the  late  Monsieur 
Morrn,  com,  hay  and  seed  merchant,  had  been  a 
very  astute  person.    It  would  make  Uttle  difference 

Pnn^t  r  '''^J'-'^l??^^*'™'  °'  *«  tl»«  prospects  of 
h,?«^^o    Tv  *^  "*  Madagascar,  whether  the  present 

maiS^  ti^T  "'  ""  ^  ™°°**^'  **^*^  ^^*^ 
''Everyone  must  do  what  he  can,"  said  Jeanne. 
PerfecUy  said  Aunt  Morin.  "You  are  a 
young  gu-1  who  weU  understands  things.  And  now 
-It  IS  not  good  for  young  people  to  stay  in  a  sick 
room -one  needs  the  fresfi  air.  Va  k  distraire, 
mapetik.    I  am  qmt«  comfortable." 

So  Jeanne  went  out  to  distract  a  s„If  aheady 
?el  A.  ""**"   ^'^'   ^'''"^'''   S'^**   ^-"de,   anS 

wiSfA^'l''*'"!*''**.^*""  ^F-  The  wonder  of  it  be- 
wildered her  the  pnde  of  it  thriUed  her.  But  he 
was  wounded.     fW  smothered   her   iov.     Thev 

made'^f.l^'nf  ^^'  ""^  ^'^''-  ^"^  ^^l^iers  alwayl 
^„J;-li  ^  °^  T"?"*®.-  I*  ^^  their  way  in  t4 
horrdjle  war,  m  the  mtimate  midst  of  which  she  had 

.Z  ft  ^V  "  *  '"^'^  ^^^  no*  dead,  he  was  ahve, 
and  thereby  accounted  lucky.  In  then-  gay  oS 
tm|sm  they  had  given  him  a  month  or  two  of  X 
sence  from  the  regmient.  But  even  in  a  m  A 
or  two -where  would  the  regiment  be?  Far 
far  jy  from  Frfilus.    Would  she  ever  see  Doggie 

^t^t  1!**T*  }T^^/^-^  ^«nt  down  the  viDage 
street,  bareheaded,  and  up  the  lane  that  led  to  the 


THE  HOLGH  JOAD  221 

on  her  k„.e.%„d  K»rf  hSiid^iTti.r? 

mattered   very   littlp     Tf  cvTI  "  destiny 

ara.-n   if  n      ■  '*   ^'*^   never   saw   Doesip 

toggle  through  the  jaws  of  death.  ^ 

wit?pC^^4fe^'*^  "  ^T^r.*^  ^  th«  kitchen 
r        ^luneas.     Ihe  news  of  Doesie's  safptir  >,o^ 

story.    He    hstened    in    bewilderment      An/  tv!! 

lon^,  eager  speech  by  saying:  ^  * 

^^  He  has  done  this  for  n:e.    Whv?  " 
Amour,"  rephed  Phineas,  bluntly. 

"T       ^ij"  ''""'d  understand  English,"  said  Phineas 


222 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I^He's  on  the  way  now,"  said  Phineas. 

"Has  he  many  friends  there?  I  ask,  because  he 
talks  so  little  of  himself.    He  is  so  modest." 

"Oh,  many  friends.  You  see,  Mademoiselle," 
said  Phineas,  with  a  view  to  setting  her  mind  at  rest, 
"Doggie's  an  important  person  in  his  part  of  the 
country.  He  was  brought  up  in  luxury.  I  know 
because  I  lived  with  him  as  his  tutor  for  seven  years. 
His  father  and  mother  are  dead  and  he  could  go  on 
living  in  luxury  now,  if  he  liked." 

"He  is  then  rich  —  Doggie?" 

"He  has  a  fine  house  of  his  own  in  the  country, 
with  many  servants  and  automobiles  and  — wait 
— "  he  made  a  swift  arithmetical  calculation,  "and 
an  income  of  eighty  thousand  francs  a  year." 

"Commenl?"  cned  Jeaime  sharply,  with  a  Uttle 
frown. 

Phineas  McPhail  was  enjoying  himself,  basking 
in  the  sunshine  of  Doggie  s  wealth.  Also,  when 
conversation  in  French  resolved  itself  into  the  state- 
ment of  simple  facts,  he  could  get  along  famously. 
So  the  temptation  of  the  glib  phrase  outran  his 
discretion. 

,  "I^ogg»e  has  a  fortune  of  about   two  million 
francs. 

"II  doitfaire  un  beau  mariage,"  said  Jeanne,  with 
stony  Cbhn. 

Phineas  suddenly  became  aware  of  pitfalls,  and 
summoned  his  craft  and  astuteness  and  knowledge 
of  affairs.    He  smiled,  as  he  thought,  encouragingly. 

"The  only  bea^  mariage  is  with  the  person  one 
loves." 

"Not  always.  Monsieur,"  said  Jeanne,  who  had 
watched  the  gathering  of  the  sagacities  with  her 
deep  eyes.  "In  any  case—"  she  rose  and  held 
out  her  hand  —  "our  friend  will  be  well  looked  after 
m  England." 
"Like  a  prince,"  saH  Phineas. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  223 

He  strode  away  greatly  pleased  with  himself 
and  went  and  found  Mo  Shendish.  n™8eu, 

ti,o  A^'"  ^^  h\  "^^''^  yo"  ever  reflected  that 

Tt^'^^JJ^^'^^  ^  ^^  «l>-P-t  fonn 

"What've  vou  been  doin'  now?"  asked  Mo 

dreaW '^^^        *  '^^'^  tottering  over  with  blissful 

"Gorblimel"  said  Mo,  "and  to  think  that  if  I 
*^D  .*fe?  the  hngo,  I  mighfve  done  the  same  I" 

But  Plmieas  had  knocked  all  tlie  drerjns  out  of 
Jeanne.  The  Bntish  happy-golucky  ways  of  mar- 
riage are  not  those  of  tte  French  bourgeoisie,  and 
Jeanne  had  no  notion  of  British  happy-go-luckv 
ways.  Phineas.  had  knocked  the  drelii^out  o^ 
Jeanne  by  kicking  Doggie  out  of  her  sphere.  And 
there  was  a  girl  in  England  in  Doggie's  sphere 
whom  he  was  to  marry.  She  knew  It.  A  man 
does  not  gather  his  sagacities  in  order  to  answer 
crookedly  a  direct  chafienge,  unless  there  is  some 
necessity.  o^auc 

Well.  She  would  never  see  Doggie  again.  He 
would  pass  out  of  her  Ufe.  His  destiny  ciUed  him 
If  he  suryi  red  the  slaughter  of  the  war,  to  the  shad- 
owy girl  in  ii.DgIand.  Yet  he  had  done  thai  for  her. 
t  or  no  other  woman  could  he  ever  in  this  life  do  that 
apin.  It  was  past  love.  Her  brain  boggled  at  an 
elusive  spmtuaf  idea.  She  was  very  young,  flung 
clea^y  tramed  from  the  convent  mto  the  wa?l 
terrihc  tragedy,  wherein  maiden  romantic  fancies 
were  scorched  m  the  tender  bud.  Only  her  honest 
traditions  of  marriage  remained.  Of  love  she 
knew  noting.  She  leaped  beyond  it.  seeking, 
seekmg.  She  would  never  see  him  again.  There 
she  met  the  Absolute.  But  he  had  done  Ihal  for 
ber  —  that  which  she  knew  not  why,  but  she  knew 
—he  would  do  for  no  other  woman.  The  Splen- 
dour o!  It  would  be  her  everlasting  possession 


224 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


She  undressed  that  night,  proud,  dry-eyed,  heroical, 
and  went  to  bed,  and  listened  to  the  rhythmic  tramp 
of  the  sentry  across  the  gateway  below  her  window, 
and  suddenly  a  lump  rose  in  her  throat  and  she 
tell  to  crymg  miserably. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

HOW  are  you  feeling,  Trevor?" 
.Nicely,  thank  you,  Sister." 
Wad  to  be  in  Blighty  again?" 
Doggie  smiled.    "  Good  old  Blilhtv  I " 
Leg  hurting  you?" 

''n'«'K^'^!f'/   u^  '^P"^  ^i^li  a  little  grimace 

Its  bound  to  be  stiil  after  the  lone  fo^ev 

but  we'U  soon  fix  it  up  for  you."  ^  journey, 

Im  sure  you  will,"^he  said  politely. 

Ihe  nurse  moved  on.  Doggie  drew  the  cool 
clean  sheet  aromid  his  shoulde^,  andVave  L^tf 
up  to  the  luxury  of  bed  —  real  bed      TkIJ^ 

r'i%P*?'"^^-^?*eopt'ldolta«3 
by  a  dehcious  odour  which  after  a  while  he  reco^ 
msed  as  the  scent  of  the  sea.  Where  W^  he  3 
no  notion.  He  had  absorbed  so  much  o7to™'s 
philosophy  as  rot  to  care.  He  had  airived  Sa 
convoy  the  night  before,  after  mudi  toavd  iT^! 
bulances  by  land  and  sea.  If  he  had  been  a  wdk- 
mg  case    te  might  have  taken  more  ktereTt  in 

touched  the  bone,  and  in  spite  of  l.mg  carri^most 
tenderly  about  like  a  baby,  he  had  iX^S 
pain,  and  longed  for  nothing  and  thoughfof  noE 
bV  /f™T"*  'esting-place.  Now,  appareX^ 
he  had  found  one,  and,  looking  about  h^  he  feTt' 
pecuharly  content.  He  seem^  to  havT^in  no 
cleaner,  whiter  brighter  place  in  the  worid^  th^ 
this  airy  ward  swept  by  the  sea-brwzM  Hp 
counted  seven  beds  besidi  his  o>^  oTf  taWe 
rumrnig  down  the  ward  stond  a  vase  of  slcetnS 
and  a  bowl  of  roses.    He  thought  there  w^  S 

225 


226 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


in  the  world  so  clean  and  cool  a  figure  as  the  grey- 
clad  nurse  in  her  spotless  white  apron,  cuffs,  and 
cap. 

When  she  passed  near  him  again,  he  summoned 
ber.    She  came  to  his  bedside. 

"What  do  you  call  this  particular  region  of  fairy- 
land?" 

She  stared  at  him  for  a  moment,  adjusting  things 
in  her  mind;  for  his  name  and  style  were  35792 
Private  Trevor,  J.  M.,  but  his  voice  and  phrase  were 
those  of  her  own  social  class.  Then  she  smiled 
and  told  him.  The  comer  of  fairyland  was  a 
private  auxiUary  hospiteJ  in  a  Lancashire  seaside 
town. 

"  Lancashire,"  said  Doggie,  knitting  his  brow  in  a 
puzzled  way,  "but  why  have  they  sent  me  to  Lan- 
cashire? I  belong  to  a  West  country  regiment,  and 
all  my  friends  tu-e  in  the  South." 

"What's  he  grousing  about.  Sister?"  suddenly 
asked  the  occupant  of  the  next  bed.  "He's  the  sort 
of  chap  that  doesn't  know  when  he's  in  luck  and 
when  he  isn't.  I'm  in  the  Duke  of  Cornwall's 
Light  Infantry,  I  am,  and  when  I  was  hit  before, 
they  sent  me  to  a  miUtary  hospital  in  Inverness. 
That'd  teach  you,  my  lad.  This  for  me  every  time. 
You  ought  to  have  something  to  grouse  at.'' 

"I'm  not  grousing,  you  idiot!"  said  Doggie. 

"'Ere  —  who's  he  caUing  an  idjit?"  cried  the 
Duke  of  Cornwall's  Light  Infantryman,  raising 
himself  on  his  elbow. 

The  nurse  intervened;  explained  that  no  one 
could  be  said  to  grmnble  at  a  hospital  when  he  called 
it  Fairyland.  Trevor's  question  was  that  of  one 
in  search  of  information.  He  did  not  realise  that 
in  assigning  men  to  the  various  hospitals  in  the 
United  Kingdom,  the  authorities  could  not  possibly 
take  into  account  an  individual  man's  local  asso- 
ciation. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  227 

"^'J^^!  ^.'*>  ""'y  ^  blooming  ignorance-" 
blooSSg^Sant-^^*^'"  -^^*e.  "My 
friends/-'"  ^  ''^^'"  "^^  *^«  °"^-    "Now  you're 

n.'.l^^  ^^n  "°  "?J^'  t«  ^«"  me  an  idjit."  said  the 
Duke  of  Cornw^s  Light  Infantryman  He  was 
an  aggressive  red-visaged  man  witi  Tistly  bkck 
^^jf^'^  «t4tbly.  black  moustache.  ^'       ^ 

It  you  11  agree  that  he  wasn't  grousing    Pen- 

yout'ii."^'^^  ^'^^°'  -^  «P«'°&  f°-a£^ 
And  into  the  nurse's  eyes  crept  the  queer  smile 
of  the  woman  learned  in  the  ways  of  chilS-eiL 

his  SilnLr^  '^  "^™'*  ^°--«?    It  was  only 

intes^F"''"'-    "'  "^^*  -  «ff--.  -ate. 

The   other   OTowled   an   acceptance,   whereunon 

the  nur^e  smJed  an  ironic  ben^iction  anS  mo?S 

"Where  did  you  get  it?"  asked  Penworthy. 
m=^°^^*K  ^a^^the  information,  and,  in  4  turn 
made    the    polite    comiter    enquiry.    PenTortWs 
bit  of  shrapnel,  which  had  broken  a  rib  or  Chad 
been  acqmred  just  north  of  Albert.    When  he  left 

"^«t^'  T^  P{!"^«  '*  °^^'  ^  great  S^tiS: 

•'•  a/®v  *  y^  ^^  y""''"^  out  of  it?" 

Me?       The  Duke  of  ComwaU's  Light  Infantry- 
man shook  his  head.    "I  take  things  af  I  fi^fi 
and  I  finds  this  quite  good  enough?^  ' 

friend?\?ter*lr^'  "  '^'  ^°^^^^'«  ^a^'  ^'^'^^ 
irienas.    Later  the  surgeon   arrived,   and  nrobeH 

Doggie's  wound  and  hurt  him  exm,i;itT  ^  thS 

the  pei^pu-ation  stood  out  on  his  /orehead'  ZS 

jaws  ached  afterwards  from  his  clendnng  of  them 


I 


228 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


WhJe  his  leg  was  being  dressed  he  reflected  that, 
a  couple  of  years  ago,  if  anyone  had  inflicted  a 
twentieth  part  of  such  torture  on  him  he  would  have 
yelled  the  house  down.  He  remembered,  with  an 
mward  grin,  the  anguished  precautions  on  which 
he  had  msisted  whenever  he  sat  down  in  the  ex- 
pensive London  dentist's  chair. 

"It  must  have  hurt  Uke  fun,"  said  the  nurse 
busUy^  engaged  with  the  gauze  dressmg. 

It's  aU  in  the  day's  work,"  lepUed  Doggie. 
The  nurse  pmned  the  bandage  and  settled  him 
comfortably  in  bed. 

"No  one  will  worry  you  till  dinner  time.    You'd 
better  try  to  have  a  sleep." 

So  Doggie  nodded  and  smiled  and  curled  up  as 
best  he  could,  and  slept  the  heavy  sleep  of  the  tired 
young  ammal.  It  was  only  when  he  awoke,  physi- 
cally rested  and  comparatively  free  from  pain,  that 
nis  mmd,  hitherto  confused,  began  to  work  clearly 
to  straighten  out  the  three  days'  tangle.  — Y^' 
just  three  days.  A  fact  ahnost  impossible  to  realise! 
lui  now  It  had  seemed  an  eternity. 

He  lay  with  his  arms  crossed  under  his  head  and 
stared  at  the  blue  sky.  It  seemed  a  soft,  comforting, 
linghshsky.  The  ward  was  silent.  Only  two  beds 
were  occupied,  one  by  a  man  asleep,  the  other  by  a 
man  reading  a  novel.  His  other  roommates,  in- 
cludmg  bis  neighbour  Penworthy,  were  so  far  conva- 
iMcent  as  to  be  up  and  away,  presumably  by  the 
life-givmg  SOT,  whose  rhythmic  murmur  he  could 
??"•  ,/°^  Y^^  fi^t  time  since  he  awoke  to  find 
tmnself  bandaged  up  in  a  strange  dugout  and  sur- 
rounded by  strange  faces,  did  the  chaos  of  his  ideas 
resolve  itself  mto  anything  hke  definite  memories, 
let  many  of  them  were  still  vague. 
_  He  had  been  out  there,  with  the  wiring  partv, 
m  the  dark.  He  had  been  glad,  he  remembered, 
to  escape  from  the  prison  of  the  trench  into  the 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  229 

open  air.  He  was  h.nng  some  difficulty  with  a 
r^alcitrant  b.t  of  wire  tiat  refused  to  come  sSht 
^d  jabbed  him  diabolically  in  unexpected  pl3 
when  a  shot  ran^-  oat  and  German  ifares  went  S 
and  everybody  lay  ilat  on  the  ground,  wWirbdletS 
spat  about  them.    As  he  lay%n  hk  stomach    a 

^  the  weU  and  his  nose  and  his  heels  were  in  a 
bee-lme.  The  reahsation  of  the  fact  was  the  in! 
ception  of  a  fascmatmg  idea.  He  remembered  that 
qmte  clearly.  Of  course  his  discovery,  two  days 
before  of  the  spot  where  Jeanne's  fortune  lay  hidden 
fr  h{«  senior  subaltern,  with  map  and  periscow' 
had  called  hnn  into  consultation,  had  setKem 
beatmg  and  his  unagmaUon  working.  But  not  till 
that  moment  of  stark  opportunity  had  he  dreamed 
fn  tLT^f  adventure  wKch  he  .idertook.  T^re^ 
m  front  of  him  at  the  very  farthest  five  hundred 
yards  away,  m  bee-line  with  nose  and  heels  -  that 
was  the  pecuLar  and  particular  arresting  fact -lav 

irZV  TT-  un  ^^"^e  "f  it  !>«  lost  comit 
of  shots  and  star-shells  and  heard  no  orders  and  saw 

frtnoT  A  T.i^'^^PIl'^  ^^''l'  ^  *e  safety  of  the 
trench.    And  then  all  was  darkness  and  silence. 

Uoggie  lay  on  his  back  and  stared  at  the  Enchsh 
sky  and  wondered  how  he  did  it.    His  attitude^^JS 
•?u  ?l  a.™a»  who  cannot  reconcile  his  sober  self 
with  the  Idiot  hero  of  a  drmiken  freak.    And  yet 

«L^rJf?^  **•  •  •'?i?™^y  J?  ^^  '"^ed  well  seemed  the 
sunplest  thmg  m  the  world.  The  thought  of  Jeanne's 
dehght  shone  uppermost  in  his  mind.  .  Oh! 

he  was  forgettmg  the  star,  which  hung  low  beneath 
a  ^opy  of  cloud  the  extreme  point  of  theSZ 
feet,  nose  and  well  bee-line.  He  made  for  it,  now 
and  then  walking  low,  now  and  then  crawling.  He 
did  not  mind  Las  clothes  and  hands  being  torn  by 
the  unseen  refuse  of  No  Man's  Land.  His  chief 
sensation  was  one  of  utter  loneliness,  mingled  w"  h 


230 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


exultance  at  frt;€!doin.  He  did  not  remember  feeling 
afraid:  which  was  odd,  because  when  the  star- 
shells  had  gone  up  and  the  German  trenches  had 
opened  fire  on  the  wiring  party,  his  blood  had  turned 
to  water  and  his  heart  had  sunk  into  his  boots,  and 
he  had  been  deucedly  frightened. 

Heaven  mu"t  have  guided  him  straight  to  the 
well.  He  had  known  all  along  that  he  merely 
would  have  to  stick  his  hand  down  to  find  the  rope 
.  .  .  and  he  felt  no  surprise  when  the  rope  actually 
came  in  contact  with  nis  groping  fingers;  no  sur- 
prise when  he  pulled  and  pu!  d  emd  fished  up  the 
packet.  It  had  all  been  pre-ordained.  That  w{ts 
the  funny  part  of  the  busmess  which  Doggie  now 
could  not  unlcrstand.  But  he  remembered  that 
when  he  had  I  r  aoned  his  tunic  over  the  precious 
packet,  he  had  been  possessed  of  an  insane  desire 
to  sing  and  dance.  He  repressed  his  desire  to  sing, 
but  he  leaped  about  and  started  to  run.  Then  the 
star  in  which  he  trusted  must  have  betrayed  him.  It 
must  have  shed  upon  him  a  ray  just  strong  enough 
to  make  him  a  visible  object;  for,  suddenly,  ping! 
something  hit  him  violently  on  the  leg  and  bowleid 
him  over  like  a  rabbit  into  a  providential  shell- 
hole.  And  there  he  lay  quaking  for  a  long  time, 
while  the  lunacy  of  his  adventure  coarsely  and  un- 
sentimentally  revealed  itself. 

As  to  the  rest,  he  was  in  a  state  of  befogged  mem- 
ory. Only  one  incident  in  that  endless,  cruel  crawl 
home  remained  as  landmark  in  his  mind.  He  had 
paused  to  take  breath,  almost  ready  to  give  up  the 
mipossible  flight  —  it  seemed  as  though  he  were 
dragging  behind  him  a  ton  of  red-hot  iron  —  when 
he  became  conscious  of  a  stench  violent  in  his 
nostrils.  He  put  out  a  hand.  It  encountered  a 
horrible,  once  numan,  face,  and  his  fingers  touched 
a  round,  recognisable  cap.  Horror  drove  him 
away  from  the  dead  Grcrman  and  inspired  him  with 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


231 


the  stren^  of  despair.  ,  .  .  Then  all  was  fog  and 
dark  again  until  he  recovered  consciousness  in  the 
strange  dug-out. 

There  the  doctor  had  said  to  hun:  "You  must 
have  a  cast-iron  constitution,  my  lad." 

The  memory  caused  a  flicker  round  his  Ups.  It 
wasn't  everybody  who  could  crawl  on  his  belly 
for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  with  a  bullet  through 
his  leg,  and  come  up  smihng  at  the  end  of  it.  A  cast- 
iron  constitution!  If  he  had  only  known  it  fifteen, 
even  ten  years  ago,  what  a  different  life  he  might 
have  led  I  The  great  disgrace  would  never  have 
come  upon  him. 

And  Jeanne?  What  of  Jeanne?  After  he  had 
told  his  story,  they  had  given  him  to  understand 
that  an  oflBcer  would  be  sent  to  Fr^lus  to  corroborate 
It,  and,  if  he  found  it  true,  that  Jeanne  would  enter 
into  possession  of  her  packet.  And  that  was  all  he 
knew;  for  they  had  bundled  him  out  of  the  front 
trenches  as  quickly  as  possible;  and  once  out  he 
had  become  a  case,  a  stretcher  case,  and  although 
he  had  been  treated  as  a  case,  with  abnost  super- 
human tenderness,  not  a  soul  regarded  hun  as 
a  human  being  with  a  persoaahty  or  a  history  — 
not  even  with  a  mihtary  history.  And  this  same 
military  history  had  vaguely  worried  him  all  the 
time,  and  now  that  he  could  think  clearly,  worried 
him  with  a  very  definite  worry.  In  leaving  his 
firing  party  he  had  been  guilty  of  a  crime.  Every 
misdemeanour  in  the  army  is  termed  a  crune  —  from 
murder  to  appearing  buttonless  on  parade.  Was  it 
desertion?  If  so,  he  might  be  shot.  He  had  not 
thought  of  that  when  he  started  on  his  quest.  It  had 
seemed  so  simple  to  account  for  half  an  hour's  absence 
by  saying  that  he  had  lost  his  way  in  the  dark.  But 
now,  that  plausible  excuse  was  invahd. .  .  . 

Doggie  thought  terribly  hard   that  quiet,   sea- 
scented  morniiig.    After  ali,  it  did  not  very  much 


232 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


matter  what  they  did  to  him.    Sticking  him  up 
against  a  waU  and  shooting  him  was  a  remotfl 
possibihty;  he  was  m  the  British  and  not  the  Genr— 
Anny.    Field    punishmenU    of    unpleasant    kii.ua 
were  only  inflicted  on  people  convicted  of  unpleasant 
dehnquencies.    If  he  were  a  sergeant  or  a  corporal 
he  doubtless  would  be  broken.    But  such  is  the 
fortunate  position  of  a  private,  that  he  cannot  be 
d^aded  to  an  inferior  rank.    At  the  worst  they 
might  give  him   cells  when  he  recovered.    Well 
he  could  sUck  it.    It  didn't  matter.    What  reaUy 
mattered    was    Jeanne.    Was    slie    in    undisputed 
possession  of  her  packet.'    When  it  was  a  qu^tion 
of  practical  warfare,  Doggie  had  blind  faith  in  his 
T^^^TT^'S'"'  Perhapb  even  more  childlike  than 
u    ?  ?"  leuow-pnvates,  for  officers  were  the  men 
who  had  come  through  the  ordeal  in  which  he  had 
so  lamentably  failed;   but  when  it  came  to  admin- 
istrative affairs,  he  was   more   critical.    He   had 
suffered  during  his  miUtary  career  from  more  than 
one  subaltern  on  whose  arid  consciousness  the  brain- 
wave never  beat.    He  had  never  met  even  a  field 
omcer  before  whom,  in  the  reahn  of  inteUect,  he  had 
stood  in  awe.    If  any  one  of  those  dimly  envisaged 
and  still  more  dimly  remembered  officers  of  the 
Lancashu-e  Fusihers  had  ordered  him  to  stand  on 
his  head  on  top  of  the  parapet,  he  would  have  obeyed 
in  cheerful  coi^dence;  but  he  was  not  at  aU  certain 
that,  m  the  effort  to  deliver  the  packet  to  Jeanne, 
they  would  not  make  an  unholy  mess  of  things. 
He  saw  stacks  of  dirty,  yellowish  bits  of  paper,  with 
A.  F.  No  something  or  the  other,  floating  between 
*r§lu8  and  the  Lancashire  Battalion  H.  Q.  and  the 
Brigade  H.  Q.  and  the  Divisional  H.  Q.,  and  so  on 
though  the  majesty  of  G.  H.  Q.  to  the  awful  War 
Ottce  itself.    In  pessumstic  mood  he  thought  that 

woifldT  luckr"**  ^^'  ^'"^"^^  ""'^  "  ^^'  "^^ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  233 

with  her  ienuTlCbfwiLKd**'?^"^^^^ 
he  rememLered  the  wean,  thL  1^  /",  '^^°-  ^<* 
steamer,  which  ffi  Sed  £l?il''(r'r«y.^d 
tramp  of  feet  thaf  nX  1^.    .u"  "*®  ^^  rhythmic 

serfnity  wL  Ws^l7w'aTruS  Krof  "'P''' 
Plex  taiigle.  It  was  aU  very  weU  to  tW^^nf  i  °"" 
Jeanne,  whom  it  was  unlikely  that  F^  of  Jeamie, 
allow  him  to  see  aaain    Tl  ■  **>"'<'  e^er 

ended  dm-ing  hiTlifeffi.  ^^^  X^PP^^^'^g  the  war 
Peggy,  his  fuCe  S™ho  taH  i?''t  .*«^.P«?«y  " 
through  good  and  Srepute^' yi  Ipl^  T^'^ 
-  not  the  faintest  shadow  of  doubfdSut  if  'n'**^ 
kept  on  frowning  at  the  blue  skv  Rhit  ^°*«'° 
very  desirable  countrv  but  in  if  t^"  ^"«^'y  ^as  a 
to  think.    And  enS^;<5«fuy°"*"« 'compelled 

nuisance  The  Slstlv  tr^nT^*  K^*f  «?  '"f^™*! 
points,  after  dlffle  voriL ''"I  "^f^.  ««^ 
to  think  of  anvthino.  fJ^«  I  ^  °***  ,'^'«J  "Pon 
better  for  yo^S  ^Vou  iulr^/"*"  '^°^^''  ^' 
and  drank  vour  tea  «nH  ••  V^  l^"^  bully-beef 
killed  am  o^two,  a^dlaSr  Jr^'-''«"«^  .«"d 
Now  that  he  ^e  t? bok  a?  h  Tn"  ''"'■"  '^^"• 
spective.  it  wasn't  at  aU  a  bad  hfe  W^t' J^ 
been  worried  to  death  n.K^  ^'  r^^°  had  he 
were  his  friends-    th^\^J^^  "^^  ""''"^    ^d  there 

yet  ever  5Sy  pfc^Tdr 'orMo  sM^' 
whose  mate    J  fpf.f  w^™  i,„  i     .™'^  J"o  Shendish. 

pavement  oi  M?ewf^H"°,«  ^^'  ^«  ^•JW 
spiritual  tread  rZ^  on  ?dd '  flf '^^^'  ,^"'  ^^««« 
by  the  Seer  otP^^rZ-'f^efrLVlV^t^ 
mmiature    Hercules     whn!'   5?     '  '  •  ^-  the 


i 


234 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


two  Roches  by  the  neck  and  knocked  their  heads  to- 
gether tiU  they  died,  and  who,  musically  incUned 
would  sit  at  his,  Doggie's,  feet  while  he  played  on 
his  penny  whistle  aU  the  sentimental  tunes  he  had 
ever  heard  of;  Sergeant  Rallmghall,  a  tower  of  a 
man,  a  champion  amateur  heavy-weight  boxer  with 
a  voice  compared  with  which  a  megaphone  sounded 
hke  a  maiden  s  prayer,  and  a  Rardolphian  nose  and 
an  eagle  eye  and  the  heart  of  a  broody  hen,  who 
had  not  only  given  hun  boxing  lessons,  but  had 
puUed  hun  through  difficult  places  innumerable 
and  scores  of  others.  He  wondered  what  thev 
were  domg.  He  also  was  foohsh  enough  to  wonder 
whether  they  missed  him,  forgetting  for  the  moment 
tnat  It  a  regnnent  took  seriously  to  "missing"  their 
comrades  sent  to  Kmgdom  Come  or  Rhghty,  thev 
wo^d  be  more  like  weepmg  willows  than  destroyera 

M  the  same,  he  knew  that  he  would  always  live 
m  the  hearts  of  two  or  three  of  them,  and  the  knowl- 
edge brought  him  considerable  comfort.  It  was 
stranffe  to  reahse  how  the  tentacles  of  his  being 
stretched  out  gropingly  towards  these  (from  S« 
old  Durdjebury  pomt  of  view)  impossible  friends, 
tney  had  grafted  themselves  on  to  his  Ufe.  Or 
was  that  a  correct  way  of  putting  it?  Had  they 
not,  rather,  all  grafted  themselves  on  to  a  common 
stock  of  hfe,  so  that  the  one  common  sap  ran  throuch 
all  their  veins?  " 

It  took  him  a  long  time  to  get  this  idea  formulated, 
faxed  and  accepted.  Rut  Doggie  was  not  one  to 
boggle  at  the  truth,  as  he  saw  it.  And  this  was 
tne  truth.  He,  James  Marmaduke  Trevor  of  Denby 
Hall,  was  a  Tommy  of  the  Tommies.  He  had 
lived  the  Tommy  Ufe  intensely.  He  was  living 
It  now.  And  the  extraordinary  part  of  it  -vas  that 
he  didn  t  want  to  be  anything  else  but  a  Tommy, 
from  the  social  or  gregarious  point  of  view  his  Ufe 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  235 

Kpldier'/VSn    C^iXT  «'"'»»«  from  bis 
beastly  hole  in  thp  ^^nn^H       i.-.""  V>®  ««™e  old 

But   H^^''""  ^"g"^'"  ^^  ««id  half  aloud, 
hefgi  trprSSeS''   ^   ^^though  "he   was 
Office  Ration  R2T„r1    •?*'?"*^   ^^^    War 
strength  of  st^lcabh^  vJ?  Z'"'^*^  '°™*1  *«  the 

akiiie?^'^^^^^^ 

HVtuL^^OJer^eiatg^Sr  ^^F' 
facilities  of  communicatio^ln  fho  ■  .,9°"?P"lsory 
The  Deanery  m^^Sed  oS.1  ^''^'^''"^  ^°''^- 


.•'•,, .-. 


236  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

containing  a  form  of  Will  on  the  right  band  flap, 
and  on  the  left  the  direcUons  for  the  making  of  the 
will,  concluding  with  the  world-famous  typical 
signature  of  Thomas  Atkins. 

'7**^. « ''"St'  Sister,"  said  he.  "I've  been  savins 
up  for  It  for  months."  ^ 

Then,  duty  accomplished,  he  reconciled  himself 
to  the  comer  of  Fauyland  in  which  he  had  awoke 
that  mommg.  Things  must  take  their  course, 
and  while  the^  were  taking  it,  why  worry?  So  long 
as  they  didnt  commit  the  outrage  of  giving  him 
buUy-^f  for  dumer,  the  present  coohiess  and  com- 
toit  siunced  for  his  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

exceedingly.    It  WM^rth  » ».  i  ^  °?'^<'*'«^'ed  fiim 

Morin,  of^L  ^J'®  independent  of  Aunt 
Jeanne's  loyd^tii„'n'fhftt'°°.i^  spite  of 
opinion.  Now  roM  Wl^  °M  ^"*  «  P«>r 
she  liked,  andl  much  th^Wt  T^^  ^^  whenwr 
would  the^L^r^  frS^"^l°^f^«°°e-  Jeanne 
from  dre^  UtUe  Fr^C  *^^  "^^althy /ick  room. 

sorting  Wiethe  i^-rKaSvXthf"'*'^  '=°°- 

wr«d**"?^  «^  tfa^S^'A^'Evrrg 

Sf  ownei^l^d^o^^'y  '■;^^//1  ^^.f^'^t 
towards  his  property  3  n.«f    Z^/^^^"'    «**'t»<Je 


-i'« 


238 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Jourdain  spoke  prose,  mns  k  savoir.  Without 
knowing  it,  he  would  have  gone  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth  for  Jeanne,  have  clubbed  over  the  head  any 
fellow  savage  who  should  seek  to  rob  him  of  Jeanne. 
It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  savage  mstinct  had 
ah-eady  sent  him  into  the  jaws  of  Death  solely  m 
order  to  estabUsh  his  primitive  man's  ownership  of 
Jeanne.  When  he  came  to  reflect,  in  his  Doggie-ish 
way,  on  the  motives  of  his  exploit,  he  was  some- 
what baffled.  Jeanne,  with  her  tragic  face,  and  her 
tragic  history,  and  her  steadfast  soul  shining  out 
of  her  eyes,  was  the  most  wonderful  woman  he  had 
ever  jiet.  She  personified  the  heroic  womanhood 
of  France.  The  foul  invader  had  robbed  her  of 
her  family  and  her  patrimony.  The  dead  were  dead 
and  could  not  be  restored;  but  the  material  wealth, 
God  —  who  else?  -^  had  given  him  this  miraculous 
chance  to  recover;  and  he  had  recovered  it.  Na- 
tional pride  helped  to  confuse  issues.  He,  an 
EngUshman,  had  saved  this  heroic  daughter  of 
France  from  poverty.  .  .  . 

If  only  he  could  have  won  back  to  his  own  trench, 
and,  later,  when  the  company  returned  to  Frfilus, 
he  could  have  handed  her  the  packet  and  seen  th- 
light  come  into  those  wonderful  eyes! 

Anyhow  she  had  received  it.  She  sent  him  u 
thousand  thanks.  How  did  she  look,  what  did 
she  say  when  she  cut  the  string  and  undid  the  seals 
and  found  her  Uttle  fortune? 

Translate  Jeanne  into  a  princess,  the  dirty  water- 
proof package  into  a  golden  casket,  himself  into 
a  knight  disguised  as  a  Squire  of  low  degree,  and 
what  more  could  you  want  for  a  first  class  fairy- 
tale.' The  idea  struck  Doggie  at  the  moment  of 
hj;hts  out,"  and  he  laughed  aloud. 

'  It  doesn't  take  much  to  amuse  some  people," 
growled  his  neighbour,  Penworthy. 

"Sign  of  a  hcppy  disposition,"  said  Doggie. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


might  be  d.T'raXpeSr^thf  "R  ,^    "" 

man  on  a  wooden  k!    ChZIT  ^^  ¥«  *  ««ntle- 

fit  for  active  service  «n^  ^L     '  ^  '^  ^  ^^^'^ 

larfingatnotSg'^dead.-  g? •  °' «> -"^h  o? your 

All  i;ght,  mate,"  said  Doggie.    "Good  n,-.rl,t  " 

hatebJiJ^S^..'"^  ^y  *«^«  "l'^  that?    I'd 

A  voice  from  the  far  mii  «f  ♦%.„  >    . 

r^y  thatthec»nvtaS.15d^r"  » 

address  was  £  a  bold  femint^ifT'"'^-  '^'^  ^^ 
could  it  I^CjeSieP^A'i^-  '  "'^hom 
lous  leap,  and  he  C  the  "  veSfo^ra^  h"'^''"; 
2«\ertom  open  envelope  of  pj^'s^^  ^t  ^fl'* 
first  two  words  the  learseem^^  K.  •**  *^® 

Cher  Monsieur." 
^S'h£"^n"'  •'^P'.  J««D°e- Jeanne  who  had 


240 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"The  military  auihoriiies  have  remitted  into  my 
pot$es»ion  the  package  which  you  to  heroically  retcued 
from  the  well  of  the  farm  of  La  Folette.  It  contain*  all 
that  my  father  wot  able  to  save  of  his  fortune,  and  on 
consultation  with  Mattre  Pipineau  here,  it  appears 
that  I  have  sufficient  to  live  modestlj  for  the  rest  of  my 
life.  For  the  marvellous  devotion  of  you.  Monsieur, 
an  English  gentleman,  to  the  poor  interest  of  an  obscure 
young  French  girl,  I  can  never  he  sufficiently  grateful. 
There  will  never  he  a  prayer  of  mine,  until  I  die,  in 
which  you  will  not  he  mentioned.  To  me  it  will  he 
always  a  symbolic  act  of  your  chivalrous  England  in 
tht  aid  of  my  heloved  France.  That  you  have  been 
wounded  in  this  noble  and  selfless  enterprise,  is  to  me  a 
subject  both  of  pride  and  terrifying  dismay.  I  am 
moved  to  the  depths  of  my  being.  But  I  have  been 
assured,  and  your  telegram  confirms  the  assurance, 
thai  your  wound  is  not  dangerous.  If  you  had  been 
killea  while  rendering  me  this  wonderful  service,  or 
incapacitoted  so  that  you  could  no  tonger  strike  a  blow 
for  your  country  and  mine,  I  should  never  have  for- 
given myhelf.  I  should  have  fell  that  I  had  robbed 
France  of  a  heroic  defender.  I  pray  God  that  you 
may  soon  recover,  ana  in  fighting  once  more  against 
our  common  enemy,  you  may  wm  the  ghry  thai  no 
English  soldier  can  deserve  more  than  you.  Forgive 
me  if  I  express  badly  the  emotions  which  overwnebn 
me.  It  is  impossible  that  we  shall  meet  again.  One 
of  the  few  English  novels  I  have  tried  to  read  k  coups 
de  dictionnaire,  was  '  Ships  that  Pass  in  the  Night.' 
In  spite  of  the  great  thing  that  you  have  done  for  me, 
it  is  inevitoble  that  we  should  be  such  passing  vessels. 
It  is  life.  If,  as  I  shall  ceaselessly  pray,  you  survive 
this  terrible  war,  you  will  follow  your  destiny^  as  an 
Englishman  of  high  positwn  ana  I  that  which  God 
marks  out  for  me. 

"I  (UT(?  you  to  accept  again  the  expression  of  my  im- 
perishable gratitude.    Adieu. 

Jeanne  Boissiere." 


THE  HOUGH  ROAD  241 

gra«tiidewa.dl£,,"iX.l'"^"*"-    The 

e^IoTlLtr^'  •'""^  '°°-  -^  hete'JS 
ga^to  ^ti'"^^^^  ^«^  '''  ^'^  -d  pencil,  and  be- 

sev'Sely.'^^d  his  pencil.    Jeanne  must  be  spoken  to 


.J- 


242 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


■  ^' 


■I  & 


What  rubbish  are  you  lalking  about  my  social 
position?  My  father  was  an  English  parson  (pasteur 
anglais),  and  yours  a  French  lawyer.  If  I  have  a 
little  money  of  my  own,  so  have  you.  And  we  are  not 
ships,  and  we  have  not  passed  in  the  night.  And  that 
we  should  not  meet  again  is  not  Life.  It  is  absurdity. 
We  are  going  to  meet  as  soon  as  wounds  and  war  will 
lei  me,  and  1  am  not  your  'Cher  Monsieur,'  bul  your 
'CherDog-gi^,'  and — " 

"Here  is  a  letter  for  you,  brought  by  hand,"  said 
the  nurse,  bustling  to  his  bedside. 

It  was  from  Peggy. 

"Oh,  Lord!"  said  Doggie. 

Peggv  was  there.  She  had  arrived  from  Durdle- 
bury  all  alone,  the  night  before,  and  was  putting 
up  at  an  hotel.  The  venerable  idiot  with  red  crosses 
and  bits  of  tin  all  over  her  who  seemed  to  nm  the 
hospital,  wouldn't  let  her  in  to  see  him  till  the  regu- 
lation visiting  hour  of  three  o'clock.  That  die, 
Peggy,  was  a  Dean's  daughter  who  had  travelled 
hundreds  of  miles  to  see  the  man  she  was  engaged 
to,  did  not  seem  to  impress  the  venerable  idiot  m  the 
least.    "Till  three  o^clock,    then.    With   love  from 

'The  lady,  I  believe,  is  waiting  for  an  answer," 
said  the  nurse. 

"Oh,  my  hat  I"  said  Doggie,  below  his  breath. 

To  write  the  answer  he  had  to  strip  from  the 
pad  the  page  on  which  he  had  begun  the  letter  to 
Jeanne.  He  wrote:  "Dearest  Peggy."  Then  the 
pencil  point's  impress  through  the  thm  paper  stared 
at  him.  Ahnost  every  word  was  decipherable. 
Recklessly  he  tore  the  pad  in  half  and  on  a  virgin 
page  scribbled  his  message  to  Peggy.  The  nurse 
departed  with  it.  He  took  up  the  flimsy  sheet 
containiug  his  interrupted  letter  to  Jeanne  and 
glanced  at  it  in  dismay.    For  the  first  time  it  struck 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


243 


on  the  table  Krb^"*^L^.*°  P"*  ^«  handful 
it  on  the  floor.^  m^Ch^}^  T."^^  '*'°PP«d 
of  the  hard-workS  3  ^'  """""^  ^«  J*"*  *'ath 

whafTas^'^^^'^i^ii^f^J-tter     After  all. 

from  her  pcS^S  m^th^r  'r^.***  t^?« 
Let  him^t  out  ^^'  f«!^  •^i''''^?''y^Penea? 
struckupadavorwff^  judicially.  Tfily  had 
him.  as  X  mighThrve  iw  ^J  ^^«  l**^  told 
sad  and  romS  sto^'     t  /Jr^n  ^'^'  *"«' 

-in  was^f  t'^^Snt^/tSt^lS  °^ 
Yes.    Let  him  eet  thma=  L  tu      •  i   ***  *Jigland. 

•  •  •  She  ffi  a?S^„S  Sy fi^  ^P^*=*T- 
was  one  of  the  few  nrivntT c^iJ^  u  because  he 
her  language^  Uwmhut  ^^^"^^  it  ^."^^  ^P^^k 
teU  hmTof^L  suS^ilket     It  wa\*  ^'  *,°^'' 

knowlftlio^f  1  Jeanne  8  confidence,  having  th»' 


244 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


&i 


treasure,  would,  of  absolute  certainty,  have  done 
exactly  what  he.  Doggie,  had  done.  Supposing 
Mo  Shendiah  had  been  the  privileged  person.  Instead 
of  himself.  What,  by  way  of  thanlrs,  could  Jeanne 
have  wntten?    A  letter  practically  identical. 

PracUcaUy.    A  very  comfortable  sort  of  word: 
but  Doggies  culUvated  mind  disliked  it.    It  was 
a  slovenly  word,  a  make-shift  for  the  hard  broom  of 
clean  thought.    This  infernal  "practicaUy"  beijBed 
the  whole  question.    Jeanne  would  not  have  wn- 
tunentalised  to  Mo  Shendish  about  ships  passing 
m  lie  night.    No,  she  wouldn't,  in  spite  of  all  hu 
eflorts  to  persuade  himself  that  she  would.    Well 
perhaps  dear  old  Mo  was  a  rough,  uneducated  sort 
01   chap.    He   could   not  have   established   with 
Jeanne  such  dehcate  relations  of  friendship  as  exist 
between  social  equals.    Obviously  the  finer  shades 
01  her  letter  would  have  varied  according  to  the 
personahty  of  the  recipient.    Jeanne  and^himself 
owing  to   the  abnormal   conditions  of  war,   had 
suddenly  became  very  intimate  friends.    The  war 
as  she  unagmed,  must  part  them  for  ever.    She 
bade  him  a  toucWnff  and  dignified  farewell,  and 
that  was  the  end  of  the  matter.    It  had  all  been  an 
idylhc  epiKKle:  begmning,  middle  and  end;  neatly 
rounded  off;  a  thing  done,  and  done  with  —  except 
as  a  strange  romantic  memory.    It  was  aU  over. 
t^r^^u^  ^  remained  in  the  Army,  a  condition 
lor  which,  as  a  pnvate  soldier,  he  was  not  responsible, 
how  could  he  see  Jeanne  again?    By  the  time  he 
re-joiMd   the  regunent  would  be  many  miles  awav 
from  FreliM.       hs,  in  her  clear,  steady  way.  she 
redised.    Her  letter  must  be  final. 
tJi^doS?^  ^''-    Was  not  Peggy  coming  at 
Again  Doggie  thought,  somewhat  wistfully,  of  the 

oldcarefree,fuIl  physical  life,  and  again  he  miimured: 
It  s all  dam  funny!" 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  245 

..P«»«ry  stood  for  a  moment  at  ih^  a 
the  ward;  then,  perceivW  h; J!    u     ^'^'',  ^canmng 
with  defiant  rf  a    Z^  L^^?"'^'''^  ''"^o 
comrade,  anl  men  in  b^„,^f  Wu^-unifonned 
a^a   chai,   and^SJiia^'^  t^^^S 

seeks  to  cover  ahynei  '^l^hin  T  ^^  ""i^  ^^at 
gone  fut  andcan'i^Vel  and  n«^ '°""-  •  ^°^«''8 
paraons-  shows  in  S^  distort  O.h"^"^  ^  "^^ 
them  wodd  have  come  to^  "     "     0^«"^'«'  one  of 

a  s±t^l,^^,  la^^f '"  '•S-^.  with 

00k  upon.    "But  it  rZt   l.»^  u^  P'^««»nt  t« 

journey^  "  ™'"*  ''ave  been  a  fiendish 

YoSrSfdltLfefthi^f^^^*'^  «   trifle. 
You're  not  badlTC!"ie^p  -  ^^^^  '°«  straight. 

flesh^tt^^o;  tTlff^a'^cr""}:-,."^-*   ^« 

Bone  to^ed:bu?th;ys^  rife  H'*  *°""''- 
"Sure.5    They're  nnt  „„^      .     °*  'J"'*^  soon." 

or  do  anytW^f horrid?"^""*  *°  *="*  "^  ^^^^  % 

^liMVigh^^'-'-^^he. 

-e^K^ve^h^e  Sy^^ktttl,-^  ^7 
PresenUy  she  remarked     ^"  "''''^  "«"«<*• 

::ft^'Srf^^?,^''«  'l'^*^  fre^h  and  clean." 
,;Rather  pubUc,  though,"  said  Peesrv 

PriP^tlAa^S^r^^^^  -^^o"  of  the 
Another  pause.  ''*^*'- 

^  welJ,  how  are  you  feelingP" 
Fu«t  rate."  said  Do-^cWp     "w         1.. 

over.    Ihopetobeout^Sain^^rfc^o.^ 


I 


246 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


B 


"Out  where?  " 

"In  France  —  with  the  regiment." 

Peggy  drew  a  little  breaUi  of  astonishment  and 
"*  "?  on  her  chair.  His  surprising  statement 
■eemed  to  have  broken  up  the  atmosphere  of  re- 
stramt. 

.  "^  XS!'  ™**°  ^  say  you  «wn'  to  go  back  to  the 
trenches? 

Conscientious  Doggie  knitted  his  brows.  A  fer- 
vent Yes  •  would  proclaim  him  a  modem  Paladin 
eager  to  slay  Huns.  Now,  as  a  patriotic  English- 
man, he  loved  Huns  to  be  slain,  but  as  the  suirivor 
of  James  Marmaduke  Trevor,  dUettante  expert  on 
the  theorbo  and  the  viol  da  gamba  and  owner  of 
the  peacock  and  ivory  room  in  Denby  Hall,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  collector  of  little  china  d&gs,  he  could 
not  honestly  declare  that  he  enjoyed  the  various 
processes  of  slayirg  them. 

"I  can't  explain, '  he  replied  after  a  while.  "  When 
1  was  out,  I  thought  I  hated  every  minute  of  it. 
Now  I  look  back,  ffind  I've  had  quite  a  good  time. 
1  ve  not  once  really  been  sick  or  sorry.  For  instance, 
ive  often  thought  myself  beastly  miserable  with 
wet  and  mud  and  east  wind  —  but  I've  never  had 
even  a  cold  in  the  head.  I  never  knew  how  good 
It  was  U.  feel  fit.  And  there  are  other  thmm. 
When  I  left  Durdlebury,  I  hadn't  a  man  friend  in 
the  world.  Now  I  have  a  lot  of  wonderful  pala 
who  wodd  go  through  HeU  for  one  another  —  and. 
lor  me. 

"Tommies?" 

'' Of  course  —  Tommies." 

"You  mean  gentlemen  in  the  ranks?" 
Not  a  bit  of  it.  Or  yes.  All  are  gentlemen  in 
tne  ranks.  All  sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  The 
man  whom  I  honour  and  love  more  than  anyone 
else,  comes  from  a  fish-shop  in  Hackney.  That's 
the  fascmating  part  of  it.    Do  underatand  me, 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


247 
^??^'  i.''*  continued,  after  a  short  silence  dnrin. 
whK^  she  regarded  him  ahnost  uncoi^Sfih? 
I  don  t  say  Im  yearning  to  sleep  in  a  iSlhy  dSl" 
or  to  waUow  m  the  ground  under  sheU-fi^  o"  mv: 
thing  of  that  sort.  That's  beastly.  TWe's  ^v 
one  other  word  for  it,  which  bemii  with  TL  =  ^ 
letter,  and  the.superior  Und  ot^y^^^^dll^^ 
It  m  ladies'  soriety.  ...  But  wtile  I'm  Sg  L^ 
they^r^l^^^Lf  ^^'  other  feUows  are'Zi"-!: 
o7.?^h»  *°*^  chaps -real,  true,  clean  men- 

Zt  k  iL^r  "**?  '"  »^J  ^  essenUalT-Sf  the 
PMt  18  leather  and  prunella -and  I  want  to  be 
back  among  them  apn.  Why  should  iTL  clove? 
S^iS^^  ^S^  '^-^  -  «  '0*  °^  i'  eomS 
'•How  horridl"  cried  Peggy  with  a  little  shiver. 
Of  course  It's  homd.  But  they've  got  to  stick 
H,  haven  t  theyP  And  then  there^s  an^er  t£ 
Out  there  one  hasn't  any  worries  "  ^^' 

kiiS^FwoS^r  ""'  ^"  ""•  "^«--^  What 
te^offel.'"*^"  ""^'''"'  °^  indiscretion.  He 
int'lfct""  '^'^t-     ^^fy  ""^  ^'th  a  sort  of  trained 

^Z^AZ  ^iiXTol^^tfS 

cigfeue''''s£  hlw'*"^^  °"?  ^  hand  for  a 

SftThecJ^eftX'S^^'*^'  ^PP^  «  -^^""'^ 

Doggie  thanked  her  politely;   but  in  a  dim  way 

he  felt  conscious  of  something  lacking  in  W  bTue 

UMmihng  perfunctoriness  of  the  nurse;  m  art 
^  ♦''k*^  not  of  tenderness.  As  she  bkw  oTt  ^e 
match,  which  she  did  with  an  odd  air  oFdeuLra! 


i 


248 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


tion,  her  face  wore  the  same  expression  of  hardness 
It  had  done  on  that  memorable  day  when  she  had 
refused  him  her  sympathy  over  the  white  feather 
mcident. 

"I  can't  understand  your  wanting  to  go  back  at 
all.^   Surely  you've  done  your  bit,"  she  said. 

"No  one  has  done  his  bit  who's  alive  and  able  to 
carry  on,"  replied  Doggie. 

Peggy  reflected.  Yes.  There  v/as  some  truth  in 
that.  But  she  thought  it  rather  hard  lines  on  the 
wounded  to  be  sent  back  as  soon  as  they  were 
patched  up.  Most  of  them  hated  the  prospect. 
That  was  why  she  couldn't  imderstand  DoKjrie's 
desire.  ° 

"Aiiyhow,  it's  jolly  noble  of  you,  dear  old  thing," 
she  declared  with  rather  a  spasmodic  change  of 
manner,  "and  I'm  very  proud  or  you." 

"For  God's  sake,  don  t  go  imagining  me  a  hero," 
cned  Doggie  in  alarm;  "for  I'm  not.  I  hate  the 
fightmg  like  poison.  The  only  reason  I  don't  run 
away  is  because  I  can't.  It  would  be  far  more 
dangerous  than  standing  still.  It  would  mean  an 
officer's  bullet  through  my  head  at  once." 

"Any  man  who  is  wounded  in  the  defence  of  his 
coimtry  is  a  hero,"  said  Peggy,  defiantly. 
"RotI"  said  Doggie. 

"And  all  this  time  you  haven't  told  me  how  you 
got  it.    How  did  you?" 

Doggie  squirmed.  The  inevitable  and  dreaded 
question  had  come  at  last. 

"I  just  got  sniped  when  I  was  out,  at  night,  with 
a  wmng  party,"  he  said  hurriedly. 
"But  thats  no  description  at  all,"  she  objected 
'I'm  afraid  it's  all  I  can  give,"  Doggie  replied. 
Ihen,  bv  way  of  salve  to  a  sensitive  conscience,  he 
added:  There  was  nothing  brave  or  heroic  about 
It,  at  all  —just  a  silly  accident.  It  was  as  safe  as 
tymg  up  hollyhocks  in  a  garden.    Only  an  idiot 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  249 

wounded  in  the  semwS^St.^?^'    ^°"   ^' 

i^c^LSIh^yaAT  r-^con^edf^^ 
and.  conJaJn  B^  h^%\7fert  °^  I'^'^^^e 
service  to  enter  that  of  Je^e  m  v.  *^"°t^ « 
he  had  been  shot  through  the  W  H^K^7  '^U^'^ 
ness  to  be  wounded  atV  Jef:u,e^w  ?.°°  ^.us.- 

firing  line  VSe tSiP^f  i'  *'"*  *  ^'•"«'  ^  the 
that  on  private  Sns  ih'  ''^  man  went  off  Uke 
potted.  ?iie^\ST  th^enrortf  *  ''"'P^t 

t  whole  stoiSlea^fAr  ^^'  ^^-^^ 
understood  X  sto^f  J^IT"'^  ^"M  ^avl 
in  her  plain-s^Ii^nr^L  Sh  ^"^l  ^^^' 
predated  aU  th^subS  „f  hi  ""Vv-^^^^  «P- 
Jeanne?    She  would  «ifT!f-  ?  j^^  relations  with 


250  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

one  of  the  world's  great  cynics  in  liis  advice  to  a 
youmf  man:  "If  you  care  for  happine^  n^" 
sp^  to  a  woman  about  another  wom^  " 

Uoggie  felt  uncomfortable  as  he  looked  infr. 
Peggy's  clear  blue  eyes;  not  conscienciXfcken  S 
the  reahsauon  of  himself  as  a  scoundrelly  Don  Juan 
-^at  never  entered  his  ingenuous  mind;  but  he 
hated  his  enforced  departure  from  veracity  ThI 
one  virtue  that  had  dragged  the  toy  Pom  succe^! 
fuUy  along  the  Rough  Road  of  the  soldier's  Itfe^ 
his  uncompromismg  attitude  to  Truth.  It  \^ 
him  a  sharp  struggle  with  his  soul  to  reply  to  Peggy  - 

AU  right.    Have  it  so  if  it  pleased  you.  mv^ear 
But  It  was  an  idiot  fluke  aU  the  same."        ^ 

I  wonder  if  you  know  how  you've  chamred  " 
she  said,  after  a  while.  cnanged, 

"For  better  or  worse?" 

t  J'''"*R.*^^T''"^  ^}^  ^  ^y  ^«"'<J  ^  'for  the  bet- 
"No?a  bit7  ^""^  "^^  ^  ''"  fr«^? 

T^^f^  ^"^iJ^  hard  about  you,  Marmaduke." 

Doggie  wnnkled  hps  and  brow  in  a  curious  smUe. 

I U  be  frank  too.    You  see,  I've  been  livinir  ZZ^ 
men  instead  of  a  pack  of  old  women."      ^      ^ 

,1  suppose  that's  it,"  Peggy  said  thoughtfuUy. 

-Dudp'^      sort  of  place,  Durdlebury,"  sSd  he!^^ 

He  laughed.    "It  never  goes  off." 
for  it.""  "^  *o  s^y-  m  your  letters,  that  you  longed 

"'  f  ^K«T  '  M?  °°'',  ~>  *  ^«y-  I  don't  know." 
J„«t  .1*  ^1""  f-"'^  *^°^  t*>ere,  after  the  war 
just  as  though  nothing  had  happened."  ' 

I  wonder,"  said  Doggie. 

njl9^f*^lf*  y°"  ^^^  ^°  y«»  rensember  our 
plans  for  the  reconstruction  of  Denby  HaU   whi^ 

g<^lS''^°"*^^^-^^    Allthat^Uhfve?£ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  251 

idtZ""^  ""''  *y^^™"«-    "What  wo^'d  you 
^oMmi'Il:^^  "^  ^  ™"°'^  ^^^^  '"""d  the 

aUS'^But  ^^wa^rd  made'  Z  ^''"^^'^ 
thought  dismayed  him;    and  the  fii.rM«rr!i~  ^ 

all  fo^it•^''criTp.'^4"^?J/r.^"^t-o.I'"> 

much  of  ihe  wOTld    *£"t  wp'II       *  ^^  ^\^  «^° 

d^  '^n  S?^^-   ^e;?«  h^- of  Si^^i* 

£not;iS^|e"«S^t-e^«MS 
^m^i^lS  r  ^'^  Parliament  a^d  sitT 
~&?  ""  "°*  ^'^  ^^''^^^^^^  ^«'»  have 

ac^=J"^  «  half-forS^ttenl^arXS 

ifu?r?traShSx^d^;>.^-^  *^^- 


252 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


t«it^  1  *  *"i,'  ?^^  '^^Jied.  "Dad's  always 
taUuM  learnedly  about  aocifQ  reconstruction,  whai 
ever  that  means.  But  if  people  have  got  money 
and  position  and  aU  that  sort  of  thing,  who's  S 
to  take  It  away  from  them?  You  don't  suS 
we  re  all  going  to  turn  socialists  and  pool  the  wS 
of  the  country  and  everybody's  going  to  live  in  a 
gard^-city  and  wear  sandals  and  eat  nuts?  " 
Of  course  not,"  said  Doggie. 

o„    A-f'  ^°^  "°  P^P'®  ^^  ourselves  going  to  feel 
any  difference  m  wlat  you  call  social  conditwns?" 

Uoggie  ht  another  cigarette,  cliiefly  in  order  to 
gam  tmie  for  thought;  but  ai  odd  Ltinrmad^ 
bun  secure  the  matchbox  before  he  picked  out  the 

mcontrovertjble.     Unfess    there    happened    some 

wn^iJ-''**?'^^?°t.'°^°''^»  «  °«^Jy  democratised 
world  m  ghastly  chaos  which,  after  ai,  was  a  remote 
possibihty,  the  ertemals  of  gentle  life  would  undergo 
very  shght  modification,  f  et  there  was  someS 
fundamentally  wrong  in  Peggy's  conception  of 
^t-war  existence.  Something  wrong  in  ^ntiak. 
INow,   a   critical   attitude   towards   Peggy,   whose 

KwT  T.*  ?'~*^  °^  ^«'  «P'«^<J^d  Wy.  «eem^ 
natetm.  But  there  was  something  wrong,  all  the 
e^e.  bomethmg  wrong  in  Peggy  herself  that  put 
her  mto  opposition.    In  one  aspect,  she  was  the 

11^,^  ^^J  r^J'F  «="*  a^d  dried  littie  social 
ambitions,  and  hpr  depute  projects  of  attainment; 
but  m  another  she  was  not.  The  pre-war  Peggy 
bad  swiftiy  turned  into  the  patriotic  English  girl 
who  had  hounded  him  into  die  aimy.  He  foimd 
^nself  face  to  face  with  an  amorphous,  character- 
less sort  of  Peggy  whom  he  did  not  know.  It  was 
paplexmg,  baffling.  Before  he  could  foimulate 
an  idea,  she  went  on: 

.  IX°"i.^y  ^\^  **^^'  ^Jia*  <*ange  is  there  likely 
lobe?    What  change  is  there  now,  after  all?    There's 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  253 

fully,  whafs  the  good  of  L?^^^    ^^  '*  "^^^ 

aU  be  happy ^tin"  '^^  ^  P^'*'  «"d  we'll 

JHave  you  met  many  men  who  say  that?"  he 

othe^^a?!"   °"^''  ^^  "^^^  «hout  it  onJy  the 
"Oliver?" 

and  It's  only  because  tliP  Ai™-  k.  *"?  front  — 

a  special  eye  ^rDlln'iT^^^*/  °"f*  '^^^^  kept 
to  tdl  the  Se"  daughter  that  I'm  here 

Iter  i°V2?s  c^^f^ci^'  ^°«t«- 

^^te^^ulLt^t^^^  T*  ^-^"^^^    ^ 
^«^e,e,^thintlten^-,,-tX;rt*i^ 

"So   you   did,"   said   Doggie.    "I   «memb«r." 


254 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


■i+. 


He  aniled.    'lYour  description  made  me  laugh. 
Olivers  a  Major  now,  isn't  he?" 

Yes.    And  just  before  he  got  his  Mfyority  they 
gave  him  the  Military  Cross. ''^  ' 

"He  must  be  an  awful  swell,"  said  Doggie 

fi.«  1    ^?vf^i  ^i^  •^'T  ^««*-    "He  Jiasn  t  changed 
the  least  httle  bit  in  the  worid  " 

Dogrie  shook  his  head.    "No  one  can  go  through 
It,  redly  go  Uirough  it,  and  come  back  the  same  ^ 
lou  don  t  msinuate  that  Ohver  hasn't  reallv 
gone  through  it?"  ' 

mT^^^T*  ?^*'  f  ^^^  ^^-    '^^  "l^n't  ^ow 
M.  C.  s  about  hke  Iron  Crosses.    In  order  to  Bet  it 

Ohver  must  have  looked  into  the  jaws  of  leU. 
Ibey  all  do.    But  no  man  is  the  same  afterwards. 
Ohver  has  what  the  French  call  panacAc—" 
^^  What's  panache  ?" 

«il??%  real  heroic  swagger  —  something  spiritual 

^et h2^"^  "°*  ^^  ^  '''  y-  -^-  ^^ 

hp^!i,T  '^^  ^t^  ^/^y^'  "*  ^^  Alhambra.  and 
heJrf!f.^  as  if  such  a  thing  as  war  had  never  been 

paS"^^'    '*^**°**^^-    "^tl^afspartofthe 

ai,r^''"i''"?  **?^  through  your  hat,  Mannaduke," 
sne  exclaimed  with  some  irritation.  "Oliver's  a 
straight,  clean,  English  soldier." 

DMrir  ^°  **°'°*'  ™^  ^*  ***  *^"  y°"  «»•"  said 

'  But  you  seem  to  be  criticising  him  because  he's 

^^  «»"ething  behind   wliat   yoT^   hi^ 

T'J,'^°*  criticising,  dear.  Only  stating.  I  fiiink 
1  m  more  Ohverian  than  you  "  ^^ 

chlekf  °^Lh"?!?^C  '^^^^Sy-  r^  burning 
hJm  like  this.    All  i  said  was  that  Oliver,  who  has 


THE  ROUGH  HOAD  255 

the  whole  of  civilisatirm  ;=  ikT-  ^  •-•  '  ,*^®  ^o^d. 
Christmas  pudff^T^p\^V^«. «*'"?'  »P  like  a 
the  trend  of  TLn^  thSt  ^^"^  ^  ''^^^e 

You  think  I'm  mulish."  ' 

raSa'hL'^iJ^^^S  ""'^^^^  ^°'^''*'  »>«*  he 
'No,  no." 

tha7when^"e  fehTaS  or  "  ^7^  ^« 
get  to  learn  it  ioZr  o^dL  R„t  •  ^  J*^°*;  ^^ 
superior  wisdom,  I  w1^  A"*  ""X  S/°'^ 
there  won  t  be  a  hit  nf  „v.„^  °  V.  ^"ter  the  war 
be  a  duke  Mid  a  c<Zl^  *"^'  '^^^-    ^  ^"^^  will 

'IThes^  "Z  e^rS°S'  'ZTr'" 
mam  a  dukp  h.,f  kT^    ^x^'     ^''^  ^'il'e  may  re- 
oHh^b     Hp"ii  fi  -Tk"  *  ^,  ""''^  «  little  tin  gcS 
dem^^fc    Tj^'^  ^l^  the  position  i  a 

rise  to  the  poiiti^^tt^„f^"  ««termonger  wiU 
"jic  pouucai  position  of  an  unportant  tradea- 


256  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

Sx  •^"*  ^*^**°  »*»«  t^o  there'U  be  any  old  sort 
FraMi^?'^""  '«a™  aU  this  horrible,  rank  socialism  in 
"Perhaps,  but  it  seems  so  obvious." 
Its  only  because  you've  been    living  among 

wX"^iV''''°l^  f°i  *^T  »t"P'<J  '«Je«8  into  thefi 
hcadajf  you  had  been  hving  among  your  social 

"In  Durdlebury?" 
jj^She  flashed  rebellion.  "Yes.  In  Durdlebury.  Why 

nll!l™t^'^f '  ^^^  **^'"  ^«  ^^'  ^'th  his  patient, 
£-^n  ^t  yP"  "e  rather  sheltered  fi^  the 
war  m  Durdlebury. 

She  cried  out  indignantly. 

"Indeed  we're  not.  Tlie  newspapers  come  to 
Durdlebury,  don't  they?  And  everybodyTdoing 
somethmg.    Wehave  the  war  aU  arouid  us     Wevf 

Cottage  Hospital.  Nancy  Murdoch  is  a  V  A  D 
and  scrubs  floora.  Cissy  James  is  driving  a  Y.M  C  a' 
motor  car  m  Calais.  Jane  Brown-Gore  is  nureing 
mSdonAa.  We  read  all  their  letter.  Peraonauf 
I  can  t  do  much  because  mother  has  crocked  up 
and  I  ve  got  to  run  the  Deanery.  But  I'm  slaving 
from  mommB  to  night.  Only  4t  week  I  got  upi 
concert  for  ^,e  wounded.  Alone  I  did  it-anTi? 
takes  some  doing  m  Durdlebury,  now  that  you're 
Z^uZ^  the  M^sic^l.AssociatU  has  perished  ™f 
mamtion.  Old  Dr.  Fhnt's  no  earthly  ^,  since 
Tom,  the  eldest  son,  you  remember,  w^  killed  in 
Mesopotamia.    So  I  did  it  all.  and   t  wasTgreS 

£?  .r;..  ^  .whenever  I  can  get  a  chance,  I  gb 
round  the  hospital  and  talk  and  .lad  to  the  men  aS 
TOte  their  letters,  and  hear  of  everything.  I  don't 
think  youve  any  right  to  say  we're  out  of  touch 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  257 

iTS^oud""  '"««"»°^-«y  I  know  as  much  about 

^«  ^    ^  humorous  mtent  he  asked- 
.Do  you  know  as  much  as  Oliver?" 

tone:  3  on^^'Don'?  v^^  t°^/^  ?  '^'>'^^ 
to  have  thk  pifflW  aJiS^hi^nS-"**"''  "'^^^^ 
this  long  way  tose^y^?^'"*  ^^'"'  ^  ^«  «>'°e  «« 

..What  game?"  te  asked  wi&  a  smUe 
Surely  you  ought  to  know." 
I^^TtrP^r-'^^^^'^-'itookhe,..    "Am 

Her  lips  twitched  and  teare  stood  in  her  eves 
..I  don  t  know  what  you  mean?"  ^**- 

'Yes ;  I'D  come  this  time."  said  Doggie. 
So  he  promised,  and  the  talk  drifted  nn  to  casual 
ta...    Slie  ga  ve  iinn  the  mild  chronicle  of  th^  Sv 
described  plays  which  she  had  ^  on^^ 


town, 


258 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


foThil^if*  *°  t^"*'*'."'.  «^«tched  out  a  programme 
for  his  aU  too  short  visit  to  the  Deanery.  *'"«™™™" 

And  m  the  meanwhile,"  she  remarked    "fr«  ♦« 
get  these  morbid  ideas  out  of  you^^SSad  ^ 
hJr   ""^  '"^  P-ting/she  ^'rd'ahook 

To^«  ^KlL't'^i?.^?^*"?^  '"  depreciation  of 
dn^Ti  i,V°*'®'8*^nd  them  thoroughly.  They're 
^^n^erful  feUows.    Good-bye.  old  l$.y?^  Get  ^dl 

^She  kissed  her  hand  to  him  at  the  door  and  was 

ForJuiTuJ^t  ?^^'  *^««"  *«  hate  himself. 
eaXrlL^n^®  *??'  ^.^^^  had  been  running  on 
eager  to  convmce  hun  that  his  imputation  ofSjo?: 


CHAPTER  XIX 

T^dSsIS?  \f^^'  "P''"*-  ot  bone 

gloomy  Penworthv^  J  **  ^^^^  «P'dJy-  The 
true.  dS  wSd  r?*?.*^*''^"u°"  ''^d  not  come 
wooden  Iw-  but  rn  on"   *'!^?,  '^u*  at  ease  on  a 

brought  great  cheer  to  P^worthT     ?^'^'*,^*^'•'> 

Wfo  S°j417'dSrt^'?.  letter  to 
last  word  of  the  epS  had^nt^  W'^  '*  *»>« 
to  Pe^gy  forbade  iffirlhou^hfW-  ^^^^'V 
must  henceforward  S  of  Pp!^  °' A^^-    "e 
faithfuhiess  as  hard  aThp  1  i5^^r>"°''  ''er  sturdy 
thought,   the  S  remotTdS   P^"*  *^"  "»'«  ^^ 
course  the  pubLcitv  of  th»  •  «     ?^»«y  ^eem.    Of 
it  with  a  ceK  SnsfraS  Tn^L'!!  ^'^  ^^^^ 
approach  to  senti^mZv  '  ,'^°''^^  "»*  of  it  any 
not  even  kissed    Tbey  had  ^r^T^^l'    P^^^  h«d 
arguing  from  differem  SK*^""*  ""i^^  time 
been  near  to  quaireUi^     h   1  ^^''-    ^^^  had 
him  to  criticise  fierT^et  how  I.^.^'k  ""t^geous  of 
mere  fact  of  strivS;  to  6x1.^1,^    "^  ^^  ''^'P  '*?    The 

Indeed  they  were  fi,r  1  ^f"^  "^f '  ^ ''"ticism. 
soulofDogJf/theTari^„^^"t-  ^ntp  the  sensitive 
The  soul  If  pS7  had  S '*"•  '^^T^  ^^^  Passed, 
her,  in  her  she&  cto  7^„  JtoucheS.  To 
ghastly  accident  like  «  r«fi„  *^»»  ?nd,  ,t  was  a 
the  traffic  on  y^ertlol^Zl  'trV'^"^ 

259 


*»  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

her  own  dam  who  took  part  in  it.  it  was  a  brave 
adventure:   for  Uie  comnJon  soldier  a  8ad  but^ 
taouc  necessity.    If  circumstances  hadX^^  ^ 

FwJ^X.  1  \f>^oa  tenmnus.  or  motor  driver  in 
JTance,  her  homon  would  have  broadened  H.^ 
^e  contact  with  realities  mto  whiTher  dUett^S 

make  the  deep  unpression.    In  her  heart,  aslar  m 

b-^use  It  mterfenxl  with  her  own  definitely  markS 
out  scheme  of  existence.  The  war  over^e  Wo^ 
regard  .t  politely  as  a  tJiing  that  had  never  IZ 
and  would  forthwith  set  to  work  uf«n  hw  aS 
said  interrupted  plan.  And  towards  a  compreK 
dTJ   ^,!SP^il^^'^'^»y  *he  Pe-^lexed Tnd  of 

£.^t^iSrc\z«sTean^s^ 

It  rai?'*'  ^^"^  ^^^  ^^  °°*  '^*°"'  equanimity. 

"My  deab  Laddie, 

"Our  unsophisticated  friend.  Mo,  and  mvself  an- 
mitingthisqter  together,  and  he  bikme  hSuZ 
^ying  that  he  hopeslt  finds  you  as  if  leav^us^LseS 
m  a  muck  of  Just  and  perspiration.  WheVemwi 
mw  I  must  not  tell,  for  (in  the  opinion  ofTe  C^rZ) 
yoiujoald  reveal  it  to  the  Very  ie^rend^ C bJ^% 
Durdlebury  who  would  naturally  telegraph  i^  iZ 
&r  w  ^  ^"T- .  '««'  a^DivSw^is  M  far 

ijZSl-  ^y"''  M  i  y"'  <*^«w.  «'«'  there  is 
fcfooA-  figMing  ahead  of  us.  And  though  the  hearts 
of  Mo  and  me  go  out  to  you,  laddie,  Zi  Ziwhw^ 
miss  you  sore,  yet  Mo  sa/s  he's  Uist^ri^ gj^y^^ 


THii  ROUGH  ROAD  261 

position  and  yow  wor^l^^  '  '  ■^'.  n"' Pritale 
you  hod_  left  ler  eZd^ if^  ,  '■/';•:?':  ""« 
my  native  ScoUM  caution  m\  ,  v'/.  .  /  '^ 
human  nature  gained  inthi  Z  ■     '^  ^  :«*H     V 

^^^^nrnattersofadelLle     jj;     :  ',"     "i"** 

^«/e,  anrf,  thouah  mtl  ^/j  fomeuung  of  vow  early 
cfuiracieriThfrC^i^.f'fT'j^,  of  blackening  my 

the  blazes  teas  the  Frem-h  t,.T^u'  h  ^  ^^^ 
has  a  pern^iouieffZl^nJS  ?^'°'»-«»o'^'  The  war 
limes  ^nsZdlS£rZ,T  *  "^T^  ~  ^  'ome- 

'^  word,  'Oui  dan<.T  ^?  ,  .^'^^^  /eme^niererf 
looked  at  mi  tdd^^rtft^^L    *'"/'  ^-     '''«'»*«' 

below  htr  breath  ~I  In'l  /A/nt  T  ~  ""f'  ***  *«"<' 
j<  _  <F.  ,'^  i' .      .  ""P  /  '"ink  she  meant  me  to  h^rw 

Mo.  ,„  /,„  mafcm/«<ic  wa^is  clamorous  that  I 


> ■> '    . 


"'4ii   \ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


2(S2 

te*.  whose  soul  you  won  with  a  piX snuff     -nt 
viiddap  Hn,,i  c™/.^-  ./?r  «  «««*..    And  there  was 


««n*r  why  I  havi  inTitJyou.  ^B^^l  KZ  "^^ 
understand.  It  is  the  onlviJ^i  hZt  t  l  "*'"*  ^" 
Doggie's  friends  aTfoHvLVtl.  "/  *H"'^  «"'* 

to^giT  You  l^eisS^^'^?^  *?*?  »«"''«^ 
BomUreUmlIhe  ordimry  mSSTriL   ™T 


THE  ROLGH  ROAD 


FrSff  VoS  Toir,  ^'^  '^  •*-  -"-^  'Vive  la 
Ajui  they  ffl^XalZrVi  7r-  Y  ^'^^^ 

^>>f!n»he  chinked  glasses  wTw,-.'^'  ^  «"*«"'<• 
.Bonne  chance,  mesamisr 


"jolly  good  felhw?   Tki^Ld'uT  Tf',/"'"  *«'* 
ConuZ!^"'^*^'-    ^^i^- ceremony.    1111,.;. 

5!!?y°^  -  -  if^  hIp"Z  I'^ir  ^1^'- w 


andjZ7u^n  Z  mjt'  1"^  "^'  ^^ 

'^on/your  h^r? gZd"'&i5!f' ^^^^1     ''  ^^^^Z 
But  we  did  vo„  „«Zj  "^^'  **  «<««  Jeer,  ttcre  to  see. 


-  ~*  yo«r  Aear/  good, 

".'J/f  ^  f^n'ta  gel  at  home—' 

be  £  S 'dllSstitlt^'-'  -^  /.  ^yoa'd 
McPhaiir  •'^'  "* "«  a^my  to  PAinea* 

«  cAeer,  ttere  were  tewT^hlJ^^^^  responded  with 
ind  the  tears,  Se^^t^'T*^"  ^'-  ''^*'-- 

the  L"i;tZtr«5T?^«'^^/«''n 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

tti'l  t  '^I't^  ""''•  5  «"■'«««*  ^Pse  of  memory,  and 

anring  the  attack  on  the  wiring  party. 

,«k  /  "H,?*-??^>  ''^^'  «»«'«  ««  «*e  tte  Scott 
wha  hae  wi'  Wallop  bled,  and  are  going  toZr^ 
bf  or  to  victory.  Possibly  both.  BatlwiuZ^n 
st^fast  to  my  philosophy ,  and  if  I  amc^rl^t 
Unsaid  sanguinoUnt  coach,  I  will  do  my  besltoTi„ 

poets  and  suchlike  lusty  loons  have  shed  their  last  dron 
of  ink  m  the  effort  to  describe  the  PkasaresofLikl 

Phi^Vj>rf"f  ^""-.^  disembXl%^/a  of 
i'runeas   McPhail   to   write    the   an>nt    rJ,;l^Llk^ 

Po^of  the  Worlds  Hisl^ry,whirwi/br^l^d 

ll^-^^'^'niP'^!^'     ^hile  you're  doi^  Mm 

S/f;;^"  T*'  ^i^r'"-''V<"^findan  SS 

^Xst  '  '"  '"^'  "^  "^"^^^  accrainfZ 

"Mo,  to  whom  I  have  read  the  last  paragraph  savs 
^•ifT'i.*'^  '^^  ^ddication  aff^^b^' 
WM  which  incontrovertible  propos&nZJmrM^ 
love,  I  now  conclude  this  epistle.  "'   "* 

Yours,  Phineas." 

m^*^!^^  ^^?  imbecflesl"  Doggie  cried  aloud. 
Why  the  iinpnntable  unprintaSlness  coulda't 
Phineas  mmd  his  omi  business?  Why  had  hSn 
his  Billy  accident  of  fortune  awav  in  thia^h.l^;!? 

fte^^i?-  L  ^u-^^*'  ^^^^^^  ofhiswoundK 
tingled  to  kick  Phineas.    Of  course  Jeanne  knowinrl 

more  to  do  with  hun.    It  explained  her  letter     iS 
dainned  Phmeas  to  all  etenuV,  in  tenns  compared 

"?fTl  J    ^'-  Shandy  was  a  fantastic  benediction 
If  I  had  a  dog,  quoih  my  Uncle  Toby,  I  w™not 


THE  ROUGH  BOAD  jj, 

two  friends  werTT  thp.V  ,2^  '^^*-  ^»t'»  of  his 
with  his  woSd"  J^e'^ttV""^:  ^  '-« 
steel-true  to  him.  It  W^^Ut  V^^  c  ."".^  were 
to  foment  thH^p^L^  i^J^^^^  ^^^  %alty 
and  hiinself:  ™^Sr  JTf^^  ^^t^^en  j4me 
Frelus,  the  two  idSfa  ^!!h  L**"?™- '"^'^  °«w  at 
with  the  smirki^  SSt,i«^'"^«<^^«"y 
schoolgirls.  So  Dn^^  f  "™^  of  a  pair  of 
After^  what  did  ifmat/err'   *^^  ^*^-»- 

heart,  and  could  niphT^  f^^  "°,'i^  ^®  ^ew  it  by 

the  b^nouet^d  e^STeetinte'^  "7^^  P^«««  °^ 

"All  Ais,"  he  dSed  W«.r^.?°  ^^^^'^  fa**- 

lous."    Anaet^r7u"1>hiLS,jf"««>rfjridicu- 

ouslynegl^t^li^A-^V^had^^^^^ 

sui?<rfte[!Sft"f  *^;^duecou,«e.  A 
HereceiSs^Jere  th^L'^.f  .«»«.hpspital  blue. 
and  his  railway  S.^.^tW^''^^"'°"«h. 

andcomradesrLdStoD„'S]i"°'^-^''?  ""^ 
class  carriage  of  the  K/*'"*"^*"^  ">  «>e  third- 

staS^y^*^'  Kx£:.r  ""^  ^«'>  ^  the 


266 


-..m,, 

.^»',' 


Si:       ite- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


t 


I  I 


"Where's  your  luggage?" 
"Luggage?" 
_  It  seemed  to  be  a  new  word.       He  had  not  heard 
it  for  many  months.    He  laughed. 

"Haven't  got  any,  thank  God  I  If  you  knew 
what  it  was  to  hunch  a  horrible  canvas  sausage  of 
kit  about,  you'd  appreciate  feeling  free." 
,  ''It's  a  mercy  you've  got  Peddle,"  said  Peggy. 
He  has  been  at  the  Deanery  fixing  things  up  for 
you  for  the  last  two  days." 

"I  wonder  if  I  shall  be  able  to  live  up  to  Peddle," 
said  Dogeie. 

''Who  s  going  to  start  the  car?"  she  asked. 
Oh,  Lordl"  he  cried,  and  bolted  out  and  turned 
the  crank.  "I'm  awfully  sorry,"  he  added,  when, 
the  engme  runnmg,  he  resumed  his  place.  "I  had 
forgotten  all  about  these  pretty  things.  Out  there  a 
car  is  a  sacred  chariot  set  apart  for  gods  in  brass 
hats,  and  the  ordinary  Tommy  looks  on  them  with 
awe  and  reverence." 

"Can't  you  forget  you're  a  Tommy  for  a  few 
days?"  she  said,  as  soon  as  the  car  had  cleared  the 
station  gates  and  was  safely  under  way. 

He  noted  a  touch  of  irritation.  "All  rieht. 
P^gy  dear,"  said  he.    "I'U  do  what  I  can." 

'  OUver's  here,  with  his  man  Chipmimk,"  she 
remarked,  her  eyes  on  the  road. 
•  3,',^'^^®'''*    0°  leave  again?    How  has  he  managed 

"You'd  better  ask  him,"  she  replied  tartly.  "All 
I  know  is  that  he  turned  up  yesterday,  and  he's 
staying  with  us.  That's  why  I  don't  want  you  to 
ram  the  fact  of  your  being  a  Tommy  down  every- 
body's throat." 

He  laughed  at  the  queer  little  social  problem  that 
seemed  to  be  worrying  her.  "I  think  you'll  find 
blood  is  thicker  than  military  etiquette.  After  all, 
Ohver's  my  first  cousin.    If  he  can*t  get  on  with  me. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


267 


^LT  F*  °"*"    '^°  "^'^^  t*»e  conversation,  he 
added  after  a  pause:  "The  litUe  car's  running  splen- 

They  swept  through.the  familiar  old-world  streets, 
which,  now  that  the  early  frenzy  of  mobilisinif 
lemtonals  and  training  of  new  Annies  was  ovct 
had  r^umed  more  or  less  their  pre-war  appearance! 
The  deepy  meadows  by  the  river,  once  ground 
mto  black  slush  by  guns  and  ammunition  waggons 
and  horses,  were  now  green  again  and  idle,  and  the 
troops  once  billeted  on  the  citizens  had  marched 
Heaven  knows  whither  —  many  to  Heaven  itself  — 
or  whatever  Paradise  is  reserved  for  the  great- 
hearted Enghshfiehting  man  who  has  given  Ks  life 
lor  Hjigland.  Only  here  and  there  a  stray  soldier 
on  leave,  or  one  of  the  convalescents  from  the  cot- 
Uge  hospital,  struck  an  incongruous  note  of  war. 
Ihey  drew  up  at  the  door  of  the  Deanery  under  the 
shadow  of  the  grey  cathedral. 

"T^ank  God  that  is  out  of  reach  of  the  Boche  " 
said  Doggie,  regarding  it  with  a  new  sense  of  its 
beau^  and  spu-itual  significance.    "To  thmk  of  it 
like  Rheims  or  Arras—  I've  seen  Arras  — seen  a 
^ell  burst  among  the  still  standing  ruins.    Oh 
f^eggy  —  "  he  gripped  her  arm  —"you  dear  people 
haven  t  the  remotest  conception  of  what  it  afl  is — 
what  France  has  suffered.    Imagme  this  mass  of 
wonder  all  one  horrible  stone  pie,  without  a  trace  of 
vFhat  it  once  had  been." 
"I  suppose  we're  jolly  lucky,"  she  replied. 
The  door  was  opened  by  the  old  bufler,  who  had 
been  on  the  alert  for  the  arrival. 

"You  run  in,"  said  Peggy.  "I'll  take  the  car 
round  to  the  yard. 

So  Doggie,  with  a  smile  and  a  word  of  greetinir, 
entered  ^e  Deanery.  His  uncle  appeared  in^e 
baU  Uorid,  whitehau-ed,  benevolent,  and  extended 
Dotn  hands  to  the  home-come  warrior. 


If 

(I 

I 


•I 


I 


268 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


3**?-^^4^°*«*^«^o»«d?    We Ve  thought 

S  1°^*^".^  K^  y*'"-  ^^  '  «'"'''  have  sparSX 
time.  I  should  have  run  up  north,  but  Fve  not  a 
minute  to  caU  my  own.    ^e're  doing  oiili^e  of 

He  put  his  hand  affectionately  on  Doeirie's  arm 
^«'.r;i:^  the  drawing-room'^door.  p3ed  hto 
m  and  stood,  m  his  kind,  courtly  way,  until  t^ 

over,  feeble  from  illness,  rose  and  kissed  him,  and 

in  tL  1^  i        ^F^^  m  umfonn,  who  had  remained 

o"u,2ret'cri^3  '^  ^^  ^^P'^'*'  ^'^^--•^  -«> 
"HeUo,  oldchapl" 

^So,Sve?I"''"'"'"''*'°"*«^P- 
"How  goes  It?" 

;;Splendid,';  said  Dc«gie.    "You  all  right?" 
Top  hole,    said  Ohver.    He  clapped  his  cousin 
on  the  shoulder.    "My  hati    you  X  Ck  fi?^ 

he  a  hundred  times  the  man  he  was?" 

said  S?  d""^  *^^'  ^°"  ^'"^•^  ^  ^  difference," 

"Now  that  the  affecting  meeting  is  over  let  us 
have  tea.    Oliver,  ring  the  bell."  ' 

J  *^«  c?™e.    It  appeared  to  Doggie   handing 

{:°«T^*^^J^'^*•"'H  ^^«'  cake-stfnd    St  hf 
had  returned  to  some  forgotten  former  in^ation 
Tie  dehcate  duna  cup  in  his  hand  seemed  tooXu 

tJ^^fi^"^"^^  «f  "f«'  »nd  he  feared  iTst 
he  should  break  it  with  rough  handling.  OldhaWt 
however,  prevailed,  and  no  one  notic^  bki^ot 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  269 

?"?  ?S^  ^'"5^.  ^^"''^^  ^^^  but  five  yaSl 
apart.    Olivers  division  had   eone  doY<m   f/ f^f 

Somme  in  July  for  the  great  pui  ^   ***   ""» 

o  i„it"*  *,***, ''^  '*'^'*  °o^'    said  Oliver.     "T  feel 

leavfZt'SM*^^  fraud    bei^  hom;  on  dS 

" ''Eiid  vo'  ^^r^^if  ''^  i  "enTinto"^^*^.^''^- 
"R^t  J  "  ^w  *«^y  cut  up?"  asked  Doggie 
Rather.    We  broke   through   all   riX    Th^n 
machine  guns  which  we  had  overlooked   Jnt  ,!?! 
Jeback     Luckily  they  were  s^  St' a  and 

;;My  lot's  down  there  now,"  said  Doggie. 
P^°5\.'"*'^f  ?^*  °^*'  °'^  '=bap,"  laulled  Oliver 

toSe  OhvS^*  mfnS  ^  ^'  %giebegan  Sy 
lo  ujie  UJiver     The  old-time,  swashbuckling  swaeeer 

5^nAP*"^™V  T°  ^  't  bad  moulded  Dogrie^ 
And  Doggie,  who  had  learned  many  of  the  l3n» 
in   hmnan  psychology   which   the  A^ny   teS 

due  to  his  appredatfon  of  their  social  equXy  k  the 


SI 


4 


870 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


bc.om  of  their  awn  family,  but  that  he  would  have 
U.  ited  much  the  same  any  Tommy  into  whose 
compamonship  he  had  been  casually  thrown.  T^ 
Tommy  would  have  said  "Sir"  very  scrupulously, 
whidi  on  DogKie's  part  would  have  teen  ^  idiotic 

tew  t  Ji  %  r*^^  ^«^^  8«t  °n  famously 
fewethw.  bc.ad  by  the  freemasonry  of  fighting  men 
who  had  cuK      tie  same  foe  for  die  saie  reasons 

&^!i.  'kV^''^  *'®'=«'"'  tested  and  beloved 
by  hw  men,  t  id  his  heart  went  out  to  him. 

Ive  brought  Clupmunk  over,"  said  Oliver. 
hL  I  T^°^'  the  freakP  The  poor  devil  hZn't 
inlf  •t*'"U.^'"r  {?u"  «^"Pl«  "fyears.  Didn't 
want  It.  ^y  should  he  go  and  waste  money  in  a 
ajunb^  where  he  didn't  know  a  human  Ltag? 
But  thB  tune  I've  fcced  it  up  for  him,  and  his  leafe 
v^nTirlT"''"!'"^,  T^^-  "«  '•as  been  my  ser- 
hp°H  ^  ^f  "«•*•  J/  ^^^  ^^  ^^  a^ay  from  me, 
i  f^  ^^^^'  °^  '^'^^^^^  '*"'  C-  O-  He's 
policy.  ^^  °^  *  soldier?"  the  Dean  asked 

eaiiv^Sd  oUr^''  "°'  in  all  the  annies  of  the 

soflg^uZ^'a^S^  ^^  '^^^  '^^<^  ^-^d 

8ai7p,i^  ^'Vk*^'  ^"^1  ^u"""^'  Mannaduke." 
Mid  Peggy.  The  one  with  the  Chippendale  stiiff 
you  used  to  covet  so  much." 

Doggie.*''^''  *  ^'^^  ™"'*  ***  "^^^^  ""***'"  '^"S*^^ 

shefS.^'^  ^'*^'"'  "P  **'^''"  ^^*^°»  f°'  y°"'" 

l.»^  j^n  E?*^«'®.^'**^'«^  tlie  Green  Room,  there 
he  found  Peddle,  who  welcomed  him  with  t^are  of 
m  and  a  display  of  all  the  finikin  luxiitsTthe 
touet  and  adornment  which  he  had  left  behind  at 


THE  HOUGH  ROAD  37, 

spread  out^e^  Se  pSo^^C^  Jl?  «  'j?^'^'  «hade 

J^l^^y.  leal.  a„».,p,^<|i^,  '^I^JSil 
"All  what,  sir?" 

;;i  only  want  to  wash  my  hands,"  said  Do<rrie 
"A  n^^  *  y«».«oi»«  to  dress  for  dim,^^?" 

Peddl/  Th^  ^'i'  °°*  «"«^ed  to  w^  mufti 

,''^o's  to  find  out,  sirP" 

"I   5^AT^L^'^^«'"  -  he's  a  major." 

"All  nght,  Peddle,"  he  lauehed     "If  ;tv  iw- 
P^gy-s decree,  I'U change.    rTgotaU I w^t  "^ 
Are  you  sure  you  can  manage.  sirT^  Peddle 


"fc' 


.<* 


'■m Hi*"'     .«;» 71    f    ;*, 

Vl).       ^  ...»«# «     I'  :i 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

asked  anxiously,  for  time  was  when  Domie  couldn't 
stick  his  less  into  his  trousers  unless  Peddle  hekl 
them  out  for  him. 

II  Quite,"  said  Doggie. 

"  It  seems  rather  roughing  it  here,  Mr.  Marmaduke, 
after  what  you've  been  accustomed  to  at  the  Hall." 

"That's  80,"  said  Dog^e.  "And  it's  martyrdom 
compared  with  what  it  is  in  the  trenches.  There 
we  always  have  a  Mtgor-General  to  lace  up  our 
boots,  and  a  Field-Maruial's  always  hovering  round 
to  light  our  cigarettes." 

Pwldle,  who  had  never  known  him  to  jest,  or  his 
father  before  him,  went  out  in  a  muddled  frame  of 
mind,  leaving  Doggie  to  struggle  into  his  drees 
trousers  as  best  he  might. 


i 


CHAPTER  XX 

she  KhS"  ''^?„T"  "''?.?  ^^^'^  gentleman." 

djt  my  waistcoat  down  the  bacL    pL Cd  fedd^2 
wiU  have  an  apopleptic  fit  when  he^  it     iv! 
qwn  a  bit  aince^thL  elegan?  ™«SVr  made'4' 
yifaut  wuffrirpow  Hre  beau,"  said  Peirirv 

"N    f "    ^°"  '^^  ^'^  '™**-" 

S^VlS  you' ••  """^^  '°'  ""-^-    You  don'? 

ey^!*>  dianning,"  said  Doggie.    "A  treat  for  tired 

"That's  just  what  I  told  Dad.    What's  thp  «v«i 

with  a  bit  of  stnng?    When  men  come  home  from 

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274 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


the  front,  they  want  to  see  their  womenfolk  looking 
pretty  and  dainty.  That's  what  they've  come 
over  for.  It's  part  of  the  cure.  It's  the  first  time 
you've  been  a  real  dear,  Marmaduke.  'A  treat  for 
tired  eyes.'    I'll  rub  it  into  Dad  hard." 

Oliver  came  in  —  -n  khaki.  Doggit  jmnped  up 
and  pointed  to  him. 

"Look  here,  Peggy.  It's  the  guard-room  for 
me." 

Oliver  laughed.  "Where  the  dinner  kit  I  bought 
when  I  came  home  is  now,  God  only  can  tell."  He 
turned  to  Peggy.    "I  did  change,  you  know." 

"TTiat's  the  pull  of  being  a  beastly  Major,"  said 
Doggie.  "They  have  heaps  of  suits.  On  the  march, 
there  are  motor  lorries  full  of  them.  It's  the  scandal 
of  the  army.  The  wretched  Tommy  has  but  one 
suit  to  his  name.  That's  why,  sir,  I've  taken  the 
liberty  of  appearing  before  you  in  outgrown  mufti." 

"All  right,  my  man,"  said  Oliver.  "We'll  hush 
it  up  and  say  no  more  about  it." 

■Then  the  Dean  and  Mrs.  Conover  entered,  and 
soon  they  went  in  to  dinner.  It  was  for  Doggie 
the  most  pleasant  of  meals.  He  had  the  superbly 
healthy  man's  whole-hearted  or  whole-stomached 
appreciation  of  unaccustomed  good  foodjand  drink: 
so  much  so,  that  when  the  Dean,  after  agonies  of 
thwarted  mastication,  said  gently  to  his  wtfe:  "My 
dear,  don't  you  think  you  might  speak  a  word  in 
season  to  Peck"  —  Peck  being  the  butcher  —  "and, 
forbid  him,  under  the  Defence  of  the  Reahn  Act, 
if  you  like,  to  deliver  to  us  in  the  evening  as  lamb 
that  which  was  in  the  morning  a  lusty  sheep?" 
he  stared  at  the  good  old  man  as  though  he  were 
ViteUius  in  person.  Tough?  It  was  Uke  milk- 
fatted  baby.  He  was  already  devouring,  like  Oliver, 
his  second  helping.  Then  the  Dean,  pledging 
him  and  Oliver  in  champagne,  apologised:  "I'm 
sorry,  my  dear  boys,  the  1904  has  run  out  and  there's 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  275 

.•t«T^     •  •«       '*"™  to  tE^  eye  of  the  table  wiS 

nla„^  T'  ,  .?™<»t  intoxicatins'  atmosDhere  of 
peace  and  gentle  living.  The  fuU,  lovZ  Sme 
ahuung  from  the  eye  of  the  kind  old  DeZ  hL  3e 

n^^-d^r"Ute^-^^Sa^.  -^-^'--^^ 

likStuL^T^  «PP'«=»t«l  Oliver's  comrade- 
UKe  attitude.  It  was  a  recognition  of  him  as  a  mM 
^d  a_soldier.    In  the  cou«e  of  dimier  taSk  K 

r«l'J'  ^.-  '^-  °^^  I  *»«^«  looked  Death  in  the  face 

s^rr.rof'i^fi^x^-aii 

hoMy'-'^rtlL"*''*^"  ^°"'^^  <^'  «  f--^- 
But  that  was  mere  lightness  of  speech.    OUver's 

S^ntT"  f"^!.^  ^-^  """"J'  sh^k  hin  to  the 
depths  of  his  sensitive  nature.  The  man  who 
despises  the  petty  feelings  and  frailt^^  of  Cildnd 
IS  doomed  to  remain^ful  ipiorancTof  th^t^h 
w  of  beauty  and  pathos  in  tSe  lives  of  his  feUow- 

-aSenfofTl^  as  Oliver?  His  cousin 
nnwfs?*     -"^j::;*^'     ^ck  sheep  of  the  famihr 

dMslon  « 15^''^  ««imentW  a  diSZt 
ouvision.     What  was  Oliver  to  him  or  he  to  Oliver? 

Sment  ff'hr^;'iL*t«  «y««  of  one  wh£ 
i»^  been  forged  keen  and  absolute  bv 

heroic   sorrows.    WTiat   did   anyone   else   mattS 


''I 

.'it 


276  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

But  to  Doggie  «ie  supreme  joy  of  the  evening  was 
the  knowledge  that  he  had  made  good  in  thee^erS 
Ohver  Ohver  wore  on  his  tunic  the  white  mauve 
and  white  nbbon  of  the  Mihtary  Cross.  Hono^ 
where  honour  was  due.    But  he.  Doggie,  had  been 

r'^l!^^'^"*'  °l""''  ^°''^'  «°d  OlivlffraniJy  put 
them  both  on  the  same  plane  of  acWevement,  thus 

oi^e  r*         «®''«''°'^  ^^^'  all  hated  memories 

When  the  ladies  had  left  the  room,  history  re- 
peated Itself,  m  that  the  Dean  was  caUed  aw^y  m 

n'^fZ-^^  the  cousins  were  left  alone  together 

over  their  wme.    Said  Doggie: 

^  Do  you  remember  the  last  time  we  sat  at  this 

f},r^1!f^n^'"  '^P'^^  ^^^^'  1»°1*11°«  "P  a  glass  of 
the  old  Deanery  port  to  the  light     ^'You  were 

^Do^jjie  laughed.    "After  all,  it  was  a  filthy  thing 


Since  then  I've  learned 


'I  quite  agree  with  you. 
manners." 

JnlT^^R^  made  me  squirm  at  the  idea  of  scoop- 
ing out  Boches'  msides  with  bayonets  " 
^  And  you've  learned  not  to  squirm,  so  we're 

diciS'^out'""**'*  "'"  *  "'**"''  "^  ^  *^°««  d«y«. 

Oliver  looked  at  him  squarely. 

thI7l^Hf^*"**"^  i*  T"]''  ^"^  y°»  °°^  If  I  said 
that  I  did.  He  laughed,  stretched  himself  on  his 
chair,  thrustmg  both  fiands  into  his  trouser  pc^kefe! 

]S^I'afc^\li.'=^°"«^-    IthastLghtus 

Dog.jie  wrinkled  his  forehead  in  his  half  humorous 
wiiy. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  277 

thl^dtS.'^Xy'tr  ■'  P"P'^  "•'*  to  caD  „.e  by 

relations,  old  chi^Xt  eS'Lu.rpS'^"*  ^"»« 
/ou  ought  to  know  — " 

"Yr/S^"**^-    "You  don't  mean-?" 
and  who  love  flnW  t^,=t      trust  most  m  the  world 

to  It  — but  otherwise  it's  nil  ^7     a   j  *"  "'®™  "^ 

KatiT?J^---<i-nra 

youip^i??o"th:'^ffig,i;«  'r"  ^y  •^-•* 

a  conSiision  ag^D  "     ^""^  ^^  ^  ««*  tJ^o««h  to 

8omewhard&':i^  t'°  I^S  s"raB"''"P^ 

only  real  hapS'rrhadXTKf'"r*'^-    ^he 
Tonm.y.    I'i  ,ot  talk£?  ZS^h^L^ h^^  -  « 


278 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


only  real  fnends  I've  ever  made  in  my  life  are 
Tommies.  I  ve  found  real  things  as  a  Tommy, 
and  1  m  not  gomg  to  start  aU  over  again  to  find  them 
m  another  capacity." 

«.!'^°",T^°'"'^'*  ^*^«  to  start  all  over  again," 
Ohver  objected. 

■j"^u'  ^^'  {  ^ouJd-  I^on't  run  away  with  the 
Idea  that  I  ve  been  turned  by  a  miracle  into  a  brawny 
hero.  I  am  t  anything  of  the  sort.  To  have  to  lead 
men  mto  action  would  be  a  holy  terror.  The  old 
dread  of  seeking  new  paths  stiU  acts,  you  see.  I'm 
the  same  Doggie  that  wouldn't  go  out  to  Huaheine 
with  you.  Only  now  I'm  a  private  and  I'm  used 
to  It.  1  love  It,  and  I'm  not  going  to  change  to  the 
end  ot  toe  whole  gory  business.  Of  course  Peggy 
doesnthkeit,  he  added  after  a  sip  of  wine.  "But 
I  can  t  help  that.  It's  a  matter  of  temperament  and 
conscience  —  m  a  way,  a  matter  of  honour." 

What  has  honour  got  to  do  with  it?"  asked 
Ohver. 

iiri-'^^T*^  ^  explain.  It's  somehow  this  way. 
When  1  came  to  my  senses  after  being  chucked  for 
incompetence  —  ihat  was  the  woi-sl  hell  I  ever 
went  through  m  my  life  — and  I  enlisted,  I  swore 
that  I  would  stick  to  it  a  Tommy  without  anybody's 
sympathy,  least  of  all  that  of  the  folks  here.  And 
then  I  swore  I'd  make  good  to  myself  as  a  Tommy 
I  was  jiMt  beginning  to  feel  happier  when  that 
mfemal  Boche  smper  knocked  me  out  for  a  time, 
ho  Peggy  or  no  Peggy,  I'm  going  through  with  it. 
1  suppose  I  m  telhng  you  all  this  because  I  should 
like  you  to  know." 

He  pasMd  his  hand,  in  the  famiUar  gesture,  from 
back  to  front  of  his  short-cropped  hair.  Oliver 
Milled  at  the  reminiscence  of  the  old  disturbed 
Uofirgie;  but  Le  said  very  gravely: 


li  ;  7}%'"='   """  '^^  oiu"  *ery  gravely: 

If ;  •  .      *  ™  glad  you  ve  told  me,  old  man.    I  appreciate 

I  i  >t  very  much.     I've  been  firough  the  r^s  my- 


are 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  279 

Who  else  said  it?" 
Do?gLr^ee^"SerreA  Wood  to  rush  to 
held  him.  He  cS  hSf  ^  ™*^»  ?a^e 
idiot.  The  tVue  ^S  to^  ^°^  ^  impufeive 
confession  of  Jel^r'' Th.  1?"""^°°  r"^  be  a 
of  Fj^lus  swam  before  SlyT'u^  J^' ^'^''^ 
his  chair  again  with  a  laS  ^^  '"**' 

hea,?^telk:'"rrmat£"^f7^  rJ^^'  h««rt-to- 
myself.  It's^d  Tu^i^T'  ^  ^  I  said  it 
words.  Anyhow  vo?,VptK  ^"^\"s«l  the  same 
has  hit  on  t^r^r^'L^  fj^""  ^^^^^^o 
mg  one's  soul  is  a  Wt  W^w^.?°*^?^-  ^^d- 
aboutthesizeofit."         '"e'»-f«l"tm  -but  that's 

ask'Jd'^^.th^'*  •*^*  °°  ^^  t™th.  then?"  Oliver 
Siy^ol  *'"""'"    '^"*°^'   the   shade    of 

saidX^^  ^  HeTo^^^sW?^  ^f  y«*'  y""  see." 
"ShaU  wf  go  S?"       •  "^"""^^  ^""^  dJscussioi. 

ladt'^ter^S^Dfa^y i^  -^"^f  *^  ^« 
last  rubber.  ^  *^'°^  "»>  PMed  the 

Why?    Peggy  asked  bluntly. 


280 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


|.!     ■       '!  I 


Oliver  interposed  laughing  his  hand  on  Doeirio's 
shoulder.  ^' 

"Tommy's  accustomed  to  go  to  bed  in  his  day- 
shirt.  ' 

"How  perfectly  disgusting!"  cried  Peggy,  and 
swept  from  the  room. 

Oliver  dropped  his  hand  and  looked  somewhat 
abashed. 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  been  and  gone  and  done  it.    I'm 
Sony.    I  m  still  a  barbarian  South  Sea  Islander." 

I  wish  I  were  a  young  man,"  said  the  Dean, 
moymg  from  the  door,  and  with  his  courtly  gesture 
mvitmg  them  to  sit,  "and  could  take  part  in  these 
strange  hardships.  This  question  of  night  attire 
for  mstance,  has  never  struck  me  before.  The 
whole  tW  is  of  amazing  interest.  Ah!  what  it  is 
to  be  old!  If  I  were  young,  I  should  be  with  you, 
cloth  or  no  cloth,  in  the  trenches.  I  hope  both  of 
you  know  that  I  vehemently  dissent  from  the 
bishops  who  prohibit  the  younger  clergy  from  taking 
their  place  in  the  fighting  line.  If  G6d'8  archangels 
imd  angels  themselves  took  up  the  sword  agamst 
the  Powers  of  Darkness,  surely  a  stalwart  younu 
curate  of  the  Church  of  England  would  find  his 
vocation  m  warring  with  rifle  and  bayonet  against 
the  proclaimed  enemies  of  God  and  mankind?" 

The  influence  of  the  twenty  thousand  or  so  of 
priests  fighting  in  the  French  army  is  said  to  be 
enormous,"  OBver  remarked. 

The  Dean  sighed.  "I'm  afraid  we're  losing  a  big 
cji&ncc« 

"Why  don't  you  take  up  the  Fiery  Cross,  Uncle 
Howard,  and  run  a  new  Crusade?" 

The  Dean  sighed.  Five-and-thirty  years  ago, 
when  he  had  set  aU  Durdlebury  by  the  ears,  he 
m«ht  have  preached  glorious  heresy  and  heroic 
schism;  but  now  at  seventy  the  immutability  of  the 
great  grey  fabnc  had  become  part  of  his  being. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  281 

the  rime,     I  w  Duwfc^'    '  *'"^?  '^^t*"  *« 
you  each  a  coDv-wWTh  t?  \P«°»Phlet-I  sent 

he  Mid    ''fV^t  ?ff^-  u^t"  '^'■a'<l>  Uncle  Edward  " 


make  out  tf.A  rtr   V*?P'^'  ™ereas,  as  far  as  I  can 
pl^e'^^n^loaS/rCh^^^^  ^-  ^ 

^th^ihJ'nTi  ^^'.^^^  chJcrshoddte 

affAeTd'ift"™  ""°"^  *«  ^^^  -  «»«  room 

.'.'Sf }  *,^^"  °'''  f;'*"?'"  ^aJ*!  Oliver. 
..One  of  the  best,"  said  Dopgie. 
its   rather   patietic,"    said    OUver.    "In    his 


* 


282 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


heart  he  would  hke  to  play  the  devU  with  the  Bishops 
and  kick  every  able-bodied  parson  into  the  trenchw 
—  and  there  are  thousands  of  them  that  don't  need 
any  kicking  and,  on  the  contrary,  have  been  kicked 
back;  but  he  has  become  half  petrified  in  the  at- 
mosphere of  this  place.  It's  lovely  to  come  to  as  a 
sort  of  funk-hole  of  peace  —  but  my  holy  Aunt!  — 
What  the  blazes  are  you  laughing  at?" 

"I'm  only  thinking  of  a  1  ast  of  a  boy  here  who 
used  to  say  that,"  replied  Doggie. 

"Oh  I  "said  Ohver,  and  he  grinned.  "Anyway. 
1  was  only  goma;  to  remark  that  if  I  thought  I  was 
gomg  to  spend  the  rest  of  my  Ufa  here,  I'd  paint  the 
town  vennilhon  for  a  week  and  then  cut  my  throat." 

,.^g»"te  agree  with  you,"  said  Doggie. 

..iirc"*."^®  y**"  ?°™?  ^  <^°  *J*e"  *^e  war's  over?" 

Who  knows  what  he's  going  to  do?    What  are 

you  gomg  to  do?    Fly  back  to  your  UtUe  Robinson 

Crusoe  Durdlebury  of  a  Pacific  Island?    I  don't 

think  so. 

Oliver  stuck  his  pipe  on  the  mantelpiece  and  his 

hands  on  his  hips,  and  made  a  stride  towards  Doggie 

Damn  you,  Doggiel    Damn  you  to  little  bits! 

How  the  Hades  did  you  guess  what  I've  scarcely 

*oId  myself,  much  less  another  human  being?  " 

You  yourself  said  it  was  a  good  old  war,  and  it 
has  taught  us  a  lot  of  things." 

"It  has,"  said  Ohver.  "But  I  never  expectci 
to  hear  Huaheme  called  Durdlebury  by  you,  Doge  • 
Oh,  Lord!  I  must  have  another  dnnk.  Where's 
your  glass?    Say  when?" 

TTiey  parted  for  the  night  the  best  of  friends. 

Dogpe,  m  spite  of  the  silk  pyjamas  and  the  soft 
bed  and  the  blazmg  fire  in  his  room  —  he  stripped 
back  the  hght  excluding  curtains  forgetful  of 
defence  of  the  Realm  Acts,  and  opened  all  the 
wmdows  wide,  to  the  horror  of  Peddle  in  the  mom- 
mg  — slept  hke  an  unperturbed  dormouse.    When 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  283 

At, last  aroused,  he  cried  out.  urawere. 

What  the  dickens  are  you  f'  mg?" 
.   Peddle  turned  with  an  injured  air.    "IamnMt<<), 
Wg„your  ties  and  socks  foi  your  bottlij^rsS; 

Doggie   leaped    out    of   bed.     "You    dear    oM 

^^i?" »! "  whewa;  it^?.  '-^^ 

me^r-arthrdtw.^^r.^fad'^^s" 
.^rv:ir-£2:&---i^S 

yo4-;|ii|ti     {El  ciir."-* 

un,  Helli    said  Doeeie  —  And  P<w]>)io  ..„ 

understand?  Im  a  private  soldier.  I've  ^t  to 
wear  uniform  all  the  time,  and  I'll  h«vp  tl  .^  • 
*^  ^nf  *i,y  ^d  «.iiJ  you  'geUt  for  me  "  *"  "^"^  '^ 
Peddle  fled.  The  picture  that  he  left  nn  nn„„n-«'<. 
^  was  that  of  the  faithful  st^wd  &Sf'^« 
upbfted  hands,  retu-ing  from  the  room  in  m^nf  H?« 
great  scenes  of  Hogarth's  "Rake'sTo^t^ '•'^'i^e 
sunihtude  made  him  laugh -for  oZrio' always 
had  a  savmg  sense  of  humour -but  hf  was  ve^ 
angry  with  l^eddle,  while  he  stamp^lrS Ib^ 
room  m  his  silk  pyjamas.    What  the  deu^^as  he 

about  D»,L.b«,,  to  botlle.g™«,%Si.  1,  u2g 


id 


284 


f 

I 


\<t  'I'. 


■ 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


he  were  ashamed  of  the  King's  uniform?  He  dipped 
Jus  shavuig  brush  into  the  hot  water.  Thei^ 
threw  It  anyhow,  across  the  room.  Instead  of 
shavmg  he  wodd  be  floating  over  the  idea  of  cutUng 
that  oTd  fool  Peddlers  throat,  and  therefore  woulS 
slash  his  own  face  to  biU. 

in  ^ff'  I'o^e^ej-^^ere  not  done  at  lightnmg  speed 
w  »  ^Ti'y  of  Durdlebury.  The  &st  st^ps^ 
?l«n  *°  ^^  **^''"  ^  ^""^  the  uniform  to  the 
S^t^K*"*'    soon    Peddle    reappeared    carrying 

';ThMe  too,  sir?"  he  asked  exhibiting  the  latter 
i«agnedly,  and  casting  a  sad  glance  atthe  neat  pair 
?«^*"?-  *^'f*  e*?^tely  polished  and  beautif{iSy 
treed  which  he  harfput  out  for  his  master's  wear. 

g^'fl^el'Zt?^'  '''^«'^-    "^'*  ^^-•''  -^ 

This  tune  Peddle  triumphed.    "I've  riven  that 

a^ay.  «r,  to  the  gardener's  boy."  ^        ^' 

™„~i^'  ^°"  '^•l ij**  ?"  ^^  '^"y  ™e  half-a-dozen 
more  like  it,"  said  Doggie. 

Hi*^^™^  ^^  old  man,  dressed,  and  went 
downstair,.  The  Dean  had  breakfasted  at  seven. 
Pesgy  and  OhvCT  were  not  yet  down  for  the  nine 
o  dock  meal.  Doggie  strolled  about  the  garden 
and  sauntered  round  to  the  stable-yard.  There  he 
encountered  Chipmunk  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  sitting 
on  a  packmg  case  and  poUshing  Oliver's  leggings! 
hLl^'^v.  ^y*  «'r^-«haven  mug  and  scoX 
beneath  his  bushy  eyebrows  at  the  newcomer. 
Mommg,  ^matel*' said  Doggie  pleasantly. 
Morrjng,    said  Chipmunk,  resuming  his  work. 

Doggie  turned  over  a  stable  bucket  and  sat  down 
on  it  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"Glad  to  be  back?" 

Chipmunk  poised  the  cloth  on  which  he  had 
poured  some  brown  dressmg:   "Not  if  I  has  to  bo 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  285 

worried  with  private  soJjers,"  he  reDli«l     "i 
^'e^^et  away  from  •em."      "«  "'Pl'ed.       I  came 

had  never  before  Wnt^^t^^  Ik  ?^  "™y-  *»" 
tame  gentleman  pri^ate^lT^lI!'^K*^'"«  «  *'«*" 
to  heU  on  that  acK  VS^fiT  ^'"  S^naigned 
oneof  hisraresudSi'^  ^  '"^'  '*«^«°  l>y 

as  4'^"yo°^*roT^^n'^«^.- P"-^  «>'dier 
your  tlinkighe^  off i"™"°^  '*«™«°''  I'"  J^ock 

to  the  winds  anH   «^?    •  ^^T'  "^^^  and  leg£ag 

monkey:'wemforbo5Sr*  ^""^  "^  ^'  ^^ 
You  just  try." 

veS^arSjtotn'^'^^r-^'^  l-^^d  been 
suc^eded.^  SmuS  wenff '^'"'  ^^J^""*''  have 
bombed.  It  wrh?  S^"  ^nlf  *"'  ''"•*'  ^'^ 
nish  that  did  it  n^J^  j  ^*'  unscientific 
fi8J?^n  graid -sujy  '^^'^^  ^  P««trate 

impSS  ^clicJ'"^'^  ^  ^«  "Jx^-t?"  cried  a  shaip. 

of  way,  did  likS     ^  ^  "P  "^  "  ^«^«d  sort 

on?^"ofe?^;LSS'-^  -"^  "^^^  ^-'^  at 

aDd  CWpmunriiS*„«f.«1t«°ded  his  hand 

in  moments  SrstS^dSedT.^^.'^r^'^'  ^^ich 
tary  discipline.  ad^Sl  L^^t  f  ^■'^'  °>^- 
strode  hurfiedi;  away  ^^  '**'*   '*•    OJi'-^^r 


286 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"I'm  sorry  I  said  that  about  the  regiment,  mate. 
I  didn't  mean  it,"  said  Doggie. 

Chipmmik  looked  uncertainly  into  Doggie's  eyes 
for  what  Doggie  felt  to  be  a  very  long  time.  Chip- 
munk's dull  brain  was  slowly  realising  the  situation. 
The  man  opposite  to  him  was  his  master's  cousin. 
When  he  had  last  seen  him,  he  had  no  title  to  be 
called  a  man  at  aU.  His  vocabulary  volcanically 
rich,  but  otherwise  limited,  had  not  been  able  to 
express  him  in  adequate  terms  of  contempt  and 
derision.  Now  behold  him  masquerading  as  a 
private.  Wounded.  But  any  fool  could  get 
wounded.  Behold  him  further  coming  down  from 
the  social  heights  whereon  his  master  dwelt,  to 
take  a  rise  out  of  him,  Chipmunk.  In  selfndefence 
he  had  taken  the  obvious  course.  He  had  told  him 
to  go  to  hell.  Then  the  important  things  had  hap- 
pened. Not  the  effeminate  gentleman  but  some- 
one very  much  like  the  common  Tommy  of  his 
acquaintance,  had  responded.  And  he  had  further 
responded  with  the  familiar  vigour  but  unwonted 
science  of  the  rank  and  file.  He  had  also  stood  at 
attention  and  saluted  and  obeyed  like  any  common 
Tommy,  when  the  Major  appeared.  The  last 
fact  appealed  to  him,  perhaps,  as  much  as  the  one 
more  mvested  in  violence. 

"  'Ere,"  said  he  at  last,  jerking  his  head  and  rub- 
bing his  jaw,  "how  the  'ell  did  you  do  it?" 

"We'll  get  some  gloves  and  I'll  sliow  you,"  said 
Doggie. 

So  peace  and  firm  friendship  were  made.  Doggie 
went  into  the  house,  and  in  the  dining  room  found 
Oliver  in  convulsive  laughter. 

"Oh,  my  holy  Aunt  I  you'll  be  the  death  of  me, 
Doggie.  'Yes,  sirl'"  He  mimicked  him.  "The 
perfect  Tommy.  After  doing  in  old  Chipmunk. 
Chipmunk  with  the  strength  of  a  gorilla  and  the 
courage  of  a  lion.    I  just  happened  round  to  see  him 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


287 
down.    How  the  blazes  did   you  manage  it. 


reDb&*'"7'!fJi  <^l^P°>"°k's  just  asked  me."  Doggie 
'•T^»r;'=    ^y    *   «°^    regiment,"    he    grinied 

hel'JweSt?'-'^"''^'  *"'  "^"-^''^  «"«*«- 

"'^**!?  ^™  f^ht  enough,"  said  Doggie. 

My  dear  old  chap,"  said  Oliver,  ^' this  is  the 
fumuestwar  that  ever  was."  uus  is  ine 

"Do  help   yourselves   with  dishes   and   thines 
Itm^spiry  to  have  kept  you  poor  hun^  u!S£ 

"We've   fiUed   up   the   time   amazingly,"   cried 
Ohver    waving    a    sUver   dish-cover.    ^What    d^ 

nSedKut"''^'^  ^  "^^  ^^  ^^^ 

£l^t?ft^S^.-|^et^re°1^3<^^^ 
fl^  on  her  cheek  and  a  sudden  hard  look  into  her 

"Fighting?    Do  you  mean  to  say  vouVe  been 

fighw  with  a  common  man  hke  ciiipmunkD'^^ 

.Were  the  best  of  friends  now,"  Said  Doggie 

We  understand  each  other."  ""ggie. 

;;i  can't  quit-^  see  the  necessity,"  said  Peggy. 

Im   afraid    it's   rather   hard    to    explffi^ "   he 

rpKr*^-^  ""'^"^  ^''^  °f  the  brXSor  he 
realised  her  disgust  at  the  vulgar  brawl. 

acidly  ^^  '^  ^^'  ^^  ^^^''"  ^«  remarked 

The  meal  proceeded  in  ominous  gloom,  and  as 
soon  as  Peggy  had  finished  she  left  the  rooii. 

It  seems,  old  chap,  that  I  can  ne^^er  do  right," 


288 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


said  Ohver.  Long  ago,  when  I  used  to  crab  you, 
she  gave  it  to  me  in  the  neck;  and  now  when  I 
trjr^  to  boost  you,  you  seem  to  get  it." 

"I'm  rfrad  I've  got  on  Peggy's  nerves,"  said 
Doggie.  You  see,  we've  only  met  once  before  dur- 
>n§,the  last  two  years,  and  I  suppose  I've  changed." 
There^  no  doubt  about  that,  old  son,"  said 
Ohver.  "But  all  the  same,  Peggy  has  stood  by 
you  Uke  a  brick,  hasn't  she?" 

"That's  the  devil  of  it,"  replied  Doggie,  rubbinc 
up  his  hair. 
"Why  the  devil  of  it?"  Ohver  asked  quickly. 
Oh,  I  don't  know,"  rephed  Doggie.    "As  you 
have  once  or  twice  observed,  it's  a  funny  old  war." 
He  rose,  went  to  the  door. 
"Where  are  you  off  to?"  asked  Oliver. 
•'I'm  going  to  Denby  HaU  to  take  a  look  round." 
Like  me  to  come  with  you?    We  can  borrow 
the  two-seater." 

Doggie  advanced  a  pace.  "You're  an  awfully 
good  sort,  Ohver,"  he  said,  touched,  "but  would 
you  mird  —  I  feel  rather  a  beast  — " 

..  V '^  ^^^'  ^°"  ^y  °'**  *^'"  '^•^  O'ive'"  cheerily. 
You  want,  of  course,  to  root  about  there  by  your- 
self.   Go  ahead."  '  ' 

"If  you'U  take  a  spia  with  me  this  afternoon,  or 
to-morrow  — "  said  Doggie  in  his  sensitive  way. 

"Oh,  clear  out  I "  laughed  Ohver. 

And  Doggie  cleared. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ALL  right,  Peddle,  I  can  find  mv  wav  ahnnf  " 

"Eve4iW?1'  "  ^^3lr^Ty  ^  ^^  hall. 

was  whet's  eft?  ZAr'^'''  ^  .•'"«*  ^  '» 
Mrs.  Peddle  '   ^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^  J'eys,"  said 

bi'  o^Ty?  ^.J't  «?''T.-^^«'   *^«  heavy 
years  he  had'norsSnTkey.  "vN^atr^arS"  '^ 

tiful  house  was  bkomU^h^  spacious,  beau- 
hand,  as  it  were  Zd Tt^  u  u^L'"^^  ^  ^a^e  a 
men  and  sTi^L^^  i''*'"'^  ^  ^^^  ^ith  serving 

His  C  w:^^a,Ta«veT£h*lth?,'^  '''"'^^ 
James  Marmaduke  Trevor  ^  °™^  "^^^ 

he?ef  W^m  lyA^l't^'-  ^-«  his  being 
the  oriental  rugs  ZS«t^fr  ^^'^^  of  it  all  =^ 
oak  staircase  iS'di^  to  thl      i?^*  ?°  *^^«  °«hle 

o^  haU  furnitCrwSJ  n'„t*^  sohd  historical 
bered,  he  would  havrfdtUkp«  ^''"^^'^  ^^™^'°- 
aU  his  Ufe  to  barns  L!i;  .  ®  ,™,™  accustomed 
fetid  hol^  £  fcoi  wJl1f1,''^«fr^«  «"d 
some  illrgua/df^Xr  'hT  ^^/^nder^  into 
room,  fhe  faitff  l^jif^  ^°*?5^  the  drawing 
to  give  him  a  tn,e  SS^^%ir^l\  ITuI 

289 


i 


290 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


it « 


the  little  tahip  w  /^<"^"'"9'  ^o«<  were  laid  out  on 
^^^^I^L^,^^^^^  «h-  -ar  th^ 

do J'Lrn.:SeSt;  SolfXe  ^  ^^  ^^ 
and  strewed  them  arnnnH    ♦„    •     ^^  newspapers 

XS'.i:"'  ™""KS.?c  *°  '°"'"^° 

ff'wott,  tTi%  "^SL^'hSss: 

caUy  hamoiise  with  h^^^^  i     *'^  °°*  aestheti- 

behind  a  cuS^  Hp  ,  ''^^  ^<^^^°  '«  an  alcove 
on  the  teuS^ack"  of  r.  K"^t  '^^  ""^  '^'^t 
Chippendale^^  on  1p  1^°^'  "^  ^'^^  '=J»«ed 
collection  of  SpaJL  on^JI^  containing  his 
o-  the  curtains  ^^^^.^^'^f^^^oocH 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  291 

paper  which,  beguminif  to  farf,.  f»„ 
now  looked  mewiamf  m!.»  •  i  *^°  ^^^  ago. 
abominable  r^^  h  oZh^^^T  "  ^««  «« 
musk  or  pastillS  or  j^^ck^  ^  «?f^?  of 
done  so,  fSr  once  he  W  S'  "  ?H«ht  have 
sort,  and  did  not  renew  thi^^v.""™'^*  «f  the 

a  SHi^'hravSS^l^S.'^^-  Vhich  for 
tumea,  it  impress^^iTirf-  ^"*  ^^erever  he 
the  miserable  gS  of^L^     ■    "''"sciousness  as 

enormitfes  of  hum^m  kventiof  W"'  ^  ^^^^^ 
strous  dogs  of  China  nnH  if!.        P®'®  ^^'^  mon- 

m  SSvres^^and  Dres^ni'°H^*^^'«?=  ^°«« 
dogs  from  Austria  S  S^LrS^^  '^'^'y 
m  the  way  of  a  little  Xt  fW  u '.  everything 

stood  in  front  of   t  w^fi.     i  ™^  ^^^  "^''e-    Hi 
on  his  hps     He  had  s^nt  t'T  f  ^""^^'^  s°"l 
of  pounS  over  thes^'lutilP^"^  ^^  ^'^'^^ 
flesh  and  blo<S  ^  f."*      *'°?^-    ^et  never  a 
possessed.    Ks^  tn  A  '''""?  r(«'''«  had  he 
W.-d  his  heL-r^J  th  ^^  ^^^  ^°?«-    He  had 
feits.     Tb   add   to    hi?^ir?''"P*^"^  "'"ote'- 
d^e  it,  SesXd  abo^S'^i,  f  ^alo^e  .  it, 
becile  Russian  nrinro   kIt^  i      -^v"  **e  senu-im- 
once  rankS^iKs'Sto^y'^^,,  '=^^''=^''  had 
serious  and  abso?bq  ptS  of  Wslfe'^^"  "  '*^ 

cabinet  S  t^^f^^^^^^ol,  and  bashed  thil 
splinter.    He^?S;ed^^a-«|rr,trrt 


292 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


'IE 


fif    .  u 


the  cabinet  stoutly  resistins'  worked  hideous  dam- 
age on  the  gilt  stool.  But  Doggie  went  on  bashing 
till  the  cabinet  sank  in  ruins  and  the  Uttle  does, 
headier,  tad-less,  rent  in  twain,  strewed  the  floor, 
Ihen  Doggie  stamped  on  them  with  his  heavy 
mumUon  boots  untU  dogs  and  glass  were  reduced 
to  powder  and  the  Aubusson  carpet  cut  to  pieces 

Damn  the  whole  infernal  place!"  cried  Dogeie 
and  he  heaved  a  mandohn  tied  up  with  disgusSnit 
peacock-blue  nbbons  at  the  boo'icase,  and  fled 
irom  the  room. 

He  stood  for  a  while  m  the  hall  shaken  with  his 
anger;  then  mounted  the  staircase  and  went  into 
his  own  bedroom,  with  the  satinwood  furniture 
and  Nattier  blue  hangings.  God  I  what  a  bed- 
chanaber  for  a  man!  He  would  have  liked  to  throw 
bombs  mto  the  nest  of  efl'eminacy.  But  his  mother 
had  arranged  It,  so  in  a  way  it  was  immune  from 
his  iconoclastic  rage.  He  went  down  to  the  dining 
rwm,  helped  himself  to  a  whisky  and  soda  from  the 
sideboard,  and  sat  down  in  the  armchau-  amidst 
the  scattered  newspapers,  and  held  his  head  in  his 
hands  and  thought. 

The  house  was  hateful;  all  its  associations  were 
hatefid  If  he  hved  there  until  he  was  ninety, 
ttie  abhoned  ghost  of  the  pre-war  Uttle  Doggie 
Trevor  would  always  haunt  every  nook  and  cr^y 
of  the  place,  moutumg  the  quarter  of  a  century's 
diame  that  had  cuhninated  in  the  Great  Disgrace 
At  last  he  brought  his  hand  down  with  a  bane 
on  ihe  ann  of  the  chau-.  He  would  never  hve 
m  tins  House  of  Dishonour  again.  Never.  He 
would  sell  It. 

_    "By  God  I"  he  cried,  starting  to  his  feet,  as  the 
m^iration  came. 

He  would  seU  it,  as  it  stood,  lock,  stock  and 
barrel,  with  everything  in  it.  He  would  wipe 
out  at  one  stroke  the  whole  of  his  unedifying  hL 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  293 

Peggy  would  hafe  to  Mow  ^IX/''*""^- 
•vhatever  it  was    noth^pZ^u      '^  "f^'^' 

had  ever  heard  him  laugh  like  that  Af.'o  u^® 
he  was  even  surprised  at  £elf  ^^^^  «  ^^^^ 
He  was  perfectly  ready  to  marrv  Pp^itv  u 
was  ahnost  a  pre^rdain^  thing.^  3e  5 
the  engagement  was  unthinkable.  He^^o^dp,^ 
atmg  loyalty  bound  him  by  every  fibre  ofm^I^" 

Sould  knor"i-  ^"*  i'  "^«  e^^tiaJ  Lf  P^^- 
a&ouid  know  whom  and  what  she  was  marrv^V^ 
The  Doggie  trailing  in  her  wake  no  Tonge^^St^' 
well  U'LLS^'P??'^  ^  1«"«^  ^«  nfw  CgS 

Fo?thTtVrpriU"i:'  ^^'^  ^^"'d  »>«  -'^^ct: 

He  strode,   this  time  contemptuously    into  hia 

m$wm 

cametortdet^^"'''    *^'   '^'"^^   P^^' 

important   busE    Whl"  voV  fit ''"t  ^'^ 
^J^timeP    Can  you  ^^e  TngCwt  '^e^y' 


Mr.  Spooner  would  be  pleased 


to  wait  upon  Mr. 


294 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


J 


Trevor  immediately.  He  would  start  at  once 
DMgie  went  out  and  sat  on  the  front  doorstep 
and  anoked  cigarettes  tiU  he  came.  *^ 

Mr.  Spooner,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  the  elderlv 
auctioneer  descended  from  his  little  car,  "I'm  coine 
^A^''  ''¥'  «f  the  Denby  HaU  estate. Cd* 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  odds  and  ends,  family 

w1  '^^  IZ  ^*'^'  ''^''>  ^'"  ?•'=''  «"t.  «11  the  con- 
So  A%u°,}^'  f"™t«ire,  pictures,  sheets, 
towels  and  kitchen  clutter.  I've  only  got  si:^ 
days  leave,  and  I  want  aU  the  worries,  as  far  as  I 
wa  concerned,  settled  and  done  with  before  I  jro 
&»  youU  have  to  buck  up.  Mr.  Spooner.    If  you 

phone  mto  the  hands  of  a  London  agent." 

f«  ™.         u'- ^P^^^"^  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour 

^J^^^J^'^^'  «"^  «  g'asP  of  the  situation, 
and  assemble  his  business  wits 

MT%r^^  J'"  T^  ,°"*  y^"'  histnictions, 
Mr.  Trevor,  he  said  at  last.  "You  can  safelv 
leave  the  matter  in  our  hands.  But,  ZthouA 
It  is  agamst  my  business  mterests,  pray  let  me 

befM^  y^?'         •  ^°"  grandfather,  the  Bishop's. 

wh3  ^^^^  '*  P'®,*^y  <=heap.  didn't  he,  some- 
where m  the  seventies?  D"1UC- 

wk  if3*  of^r"^  **"  p*'^  ^^'^  '^'  h"t  I  could 

"kj\        eourse  we  were  tbe  agents  " 

nntJlZ,  f  !?  '^-T  ¥  '°  ^™^  <l««»al  people 
tmtil  my  father  died  and  my  mother  took  it  over. 
1  m  sorry  I  can  t  get  sentimental  about  it,  as  if 
to  ZTriTT^^'i  ^^'  ^'-  Spoo^^r-  I  want 
of  it"  P       '  "^'^"^  ^^^  the  sight 

"It  would  be  presumptuous  of  me  to  sav  anv- 
SSion^r'     ^"^^^^  *he  old-fashioned  cbunt^ 


!. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  295 

whatever  theyXI^d  ril^^i'°'^T«    "P-  »' 
and  select  the  wU  I  maJ  S»  T"^**  to-morrow 

-gterthesto4offfi.rn-t?oi^P-    ^-'^ 
Of  course,  Mr.  Trevor."  ^ 

da.'S- Jr°UXT^>,  ?f  ^ JJjJe  «>r.  a  much 

proceed  to  make  S  hW^      ""^  ^°''^'  ^°"ld 

"you  L^Sve't^ked^?  ^^  •«.*  ''«><*«>°. 
Wiat  he's  doi^g  h^r^°''"  r^  «  ^■^ather 

only  assmne  Sit  he  h«f ^"^  ^°*«-  '  *^ 
to  the  destruction  of  pirkF™/""!!*""'?' 
has  got  bitten  by  the  fev™^^  ^'*'  *^"*  ^»« 

sugaX'^lfe  ''whri  *"™«^  '^  down." 
employed  more  tod^™"'  t^  ^Trch^'V^.' 
X    shouldn  t   wondpr   if  =».<.  T         °peecn.       And 

gir^  aren't  onXlUlttrX'rnkS:  "^" 
pretJ^  tS.e^yXTatti£^i  ^^^^^^  of  a 
mistaken,"  rep'lied  Mr  ISr'  "^'  ""  ^''^  """^ 

be  a  blow  to^e  dd  mt  CT""'°*  ^o"''* 
of  blows;  and,  afte?  Si  one  ^Sd  IT  n  ''•'^''* 
one's  hfe  to  suit  the  sentikiente  rf  old  f^lv^Sff 

to  K'nby  4^  ;  i --y  to  say  I^  ,oing 
son's  people  Vtn^Hn  '^'''^uZt^t 


296 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


give  them  every  facilitv.  Also  tea,  or  beer,  or 
whisky,  or  whatever  they  want.  About  what's 
going  to  happen  to  you  and  Mrs.  Peddle,  don't 
worry  a  bit.  I'll  look  after  that.  You've  been 
joUy  good  fnends  of  mine  all  my  life,  and  I'll  see 
that  everything's  as  right  as  rain. 

He  turned,  before  the  amazed  old  butler  could 
reply,  and  marched  away.  Peddle  gaped  at  his 
retreating  figure.  If  those  were  the  ways  which 
Mr.  Marmaduke  had  learned  in  the  Army,  the  lower 
sank  the  Army  in  Peddle's  estimation.  To  sell 
Denby  Hall  over  his  head!  Why.  the  place  and 
aU  about  it  was  his!  So  deeply  are  squatters'  rights 
implanted  in  the  human  instinct. 

Doggie  marched  along  the  famiUar  high  road 
strangely  exhilarated.  What  was  to  be  his  future 
he  neither  knew  nor  cared.  At  any  rate,  it  would 
not  he  m  Durdlebury.  He  had  cut  out  Durdle- 
bury  for  ever  from  his  scheme  of  existence.  If 
he  got  through  the  war,  he  and  Peggy  would  go  out 
somewhere  into  the  great  world  where  there  was 
mans  work  to  do.  Parliament!  Peggy  had  sug- 
gested it  as  a  sort  of  country-gentleman's  hobby 
that  would  keep  him  amused  during  the  autumn 
and  summer  London  seasons  — so  might  pro- 
spective bride  have  talked  to  prospective  husband 
fifty  years  ago.  ParUamentI  God  help  him  and 
God  help  Peggy  if  ever  he  got  into  ParUament. 
He  would  speak  the  most  unpopular  truths  about 
the  race  of  poUticians  if  ever  he  got  into  Parlia- 
ment. Peggy  would  wish  that  neither  of  them 
had  ever  been  bom.  He  held  the  trenches'  views 
on  politicians.  No  fear.  No  muddy  politics  as 
an  elegant  amusement  for  him.  He  laughed  as 
b«   had   laughed    in    the  dming  room  at  Denby 

He  would  have  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  with 
Peggy.    Naturally.    She  would  say,  and  with  every 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  297 

«'&?""^Y^"5?"'  ""'''  ^Am  I  not  to  be  con- 

«freat  world  would  be  Sfore  Ll^"^  T  ^he 
me  some  sort  of  an  idea  of  ^h,"-  ^"*  ^i^e 
do."  she  would  w"th  .IrfL*^"'  y<?"  Propose  to 
And  there  Doggirwas'^S  ^u^^t^l  '^"d- 
ghost  of  a  pTo^ZZT  \Uh  ?!.  ^""^  ""'  the 
the  war.  uSiT^BrUi^ ^ ■l'^'^ J'^  ^^^  « 
would  bring  it  ti  a  peStPnH  "•"'^  genius  that 
would  be  unimarinwl  n«r!>w    ".''••  "l  ^^ich  there 

that  it  would  be  conSeot^  L  P^  conviction 
welfare  of  those  men  Xm  ^"fr,  '''^^  ^^e 
know  and  love-  Se  mpn  ^  I  ''^*'  ^^^'^  to 
little  pleasurr* writing?  ^''^Z?.  "'''^^  was 
task,  tLgCfesoTth^Lr,},'*'^"?"'*"^'*  '«^rious 
art  a  sealld^k-  0,1  Z  t  interpreted  through 
foul  metapSoi^the  men  W  r  '^^"^  «P««*  wL 
whose  cnide  iM^^LHr'  ^.^™-d«™-semi-edacated, 

of  histoi^andX  eternT'?«°f  ^^^''P^"  '«^n« 
a^nS^^dtSjSM 

whom  the  rofen  squealing  hlroe^of  HoX  wej^ 


^■ 


'i'  u 


»8  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

a  horde  of  cowardly  savaaes.  They  wer-  men. 
these  comrades  of  hw.  swift  with  dl  that  there 
can  be  of  divme  glory  in  man. 

And  when  they  came  home  and  the  high  eoda 
sounded  the  false  trumpet  of  peace? 
,.  %'«  .*0!>'<1  be  men^s  work  in  England  for  aU 
the  Doggies  m  England  to  do. 

Again,  L'  P^gy  could  understand  this,  all  would 
be  weU.  If  she  missed  the  point  altogether,  and 
tauntiMly  advi^  Wm  to  go  and  joi?  his  friend 
Mr.    Ramsay    Macdonald    at    onw-then-he 

Kretad  L'ttt -"'  °'  "^  '''"''  ^^  ^'^ 
"Everything  will  be  in  the  soup,"  said  he. 
lliese  reflections  brought  him  to  the  Deanery. 

the  nearest  way  of  entrance  was  the  stable  van! 

gate,  which  was  always  open.    Ae  strode  in.  waved 

twf^K-    u    .P"""^'  "^^^  *»«  «"""«  °n  the  ground 

^n^  ^  ^'Hu^«l™*  *¥  K"«K«'  smol^ng  a  pipe, 
and  entered  the  house  by  the  French  window  of 
the  dining  room.    Where  should  he  find  Peir<rv? 

^1  Ak  ^"^^  ^^  ^*  ^^^  *b«  immediate  i£ter- 
v^ew.  Obviously  the  drawing  room  was  the  first 
place  of  search     He  opened  the  drawing  room  door, 

^fn^ft  '^^  '°^^  °^y'  °°'««'''««'  perfectly  orl 
F^^M^i:  n  ^^erythmg  m  that  perfectly  ordiJned 
Eighsh  Deanery,  and  strode  in. 

RoiinH  1hi?Tif  ""*?  ?•  I"^^^'  ^  protected  from 
sound,  that  the  pair  had  no  time  to  start  apart 
before  he  was  there,  with  his  amazed  eyes^ 
upon  them.  Peggy  s  hands  were  on  Oliver's  shoul- 
ders, tears  were  streanung  down  he/  face,  as  her 
w^  .  i'if"'^  back  from  him,  and  Oliver's  ann 
was  around  her.  Her  back  was  to  the  door.  Oliver 
withdrew  his  arm  and  retired  a  pace  r  -  two 

Lord  Mnighty,"  he  whispered,  "here's  Dogmel" 

wJ,i:i!S  ^^^^'  T**^"^  ^J"**  l»ad  happened, 
wheeled   round  and   stared    tragically   at    6oggie 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  299 

turbable  irony.  aKmed   '       '  "^  *'""  ^P«^ 
Oliver  rushed  across  the  room. 
iJtoD,  you  silly  fooll" 

cropped  iS'ch?qSer'S  '^  *^°*"^  ^«  '*»''- 
cadi*d'^a„?^>"';i,„^l,f^I^  a  beast  and  a 
thin«  you  said^lasT  niSt-we?  T'    k"'  ^"^^ 

wayTck.'£ronS^f?^^ve  V  •"   .''"^ 
ui?  from.one  to  ihe  other. tjdq,;:."uv>«"'  '~'^- 

wiUi  Peggy."      ^         '  ™^  ^«^«  «  *onl  or  two 
"rif'l^.  •  ''?ll'''  ^  ?**«''"  she  whispered 

toSfJ.  '^'^  ""''  ^«"^  «°d  -^  gemly  led  her 

ca^'^U.  mo?i*c^^rtabK"^i;;„f  t>'  ""-  - 
on  this  situation    IpV^^  *'  M"'"''  *e  touch 

noSd^'  ^'^«'^^'  <"d   "ot  look  at  him.    She 

;;aii  right." 

"I  made  up 
Hall  and  its 
instructions." 
jj^^p^-.Slanced  at  him  iuvoluntarily. 


I  made  up  my  mind  this  morning  to  seU  Denhv 
Its   contents.    IVe   givef  old    S^^? 


"Sell  Denby 


fl 


300 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


AJn^f^i  *^T*T,^*'"  ^^®'  ^  l»ad  made  up  mv  mind 

malt^Xo^e.  ''"''  "^^^^  °^  ^°^^"  ^^^^  ^^' 

A  Jll**^*  ?'°"'''  *^^P^°^  °°  aft«'-  war  circumstances 
Anyhow,  I  was  coming  to  you,  when  I  eiTr^the 
room,  with  mv  decision.  I  knew  of  coi^ftS? 
It  wouldn't  please  you -that  you  wouS  have 
some^thmg  to  say  to  it  -  perhaps"^  someSfg  ve^y' 

"'S^Hh'J/""  T^  ^l  something  very  serious?" 

Our  httle  contract,  dear,"  said  Doggie    ''waa 

based  on  the  underetanding  that  you  woJld  n^ 

be  uprooted  from  the  place  k  whiclarraU  vo2 

t  wo,Sn;«'vl°'^-    If/J^'okethatundlsl^^ 

conTracf  TiVT  ^  ^'^^  ^«^"*  ^  determine  thf 

contract,  as  the  lawyers  say.    So  perhaps    Peeex 

dear,  we  might  dismiss  -  weU  -  other  ^miS 

Uons,  and  just  discuss  this."  consiaera- 

Peggy  twisted  a  rag  of  a  handkerchief  and  wavered 

"  InH  %  *^'f^  *i?^-,  You^^e  been  wonderful." 
And  although  it  didn't  look  like  it,  I  was  trvinff 
to  play  the  game  when  you  came  in.  I  Teally  waf 
And  so  was  he."  She  rose  and  threw  X  hrdl 
kerchief  away  from  her.  "I'm  not  going  to  S 
out  of  the  engagement  by  the  side  door  you've  S 

rvouTe  ^W  • '"'  r.^^P'^  '^-S.    It  Itaid 
u    you    Ijke.    Were    all    honourable    people     and 

wSlToTutSotXL^S^  '^«'«  breath -^'.^bliTe? 
haS'L^S^lm'^  ""'^  '^— «»  *^  ter 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  301 

thing  in  a  nuM  WMle  \w'.h'' *^' Z^''^^ 
occupied  with  myself  and  L  I-  ^^"^  morbidly 
disgrace  and  mreffortTto  d.^I  ^h'^'^u""  ^^  "^ 

padually  devett" Jmo  "a'^si'^'fif  btl^T 
tween  a  Tommv  anW  a  „»  .1  ^au-breed  be- 
mortal  thingT  me  warn  J  ''5°'^'  ^'^^^  ^^ery 
stuck  to  th!  origTnal  rottfn  IJI^  "^""f^^  ^^^'^^ 
the  semblance  of Tma^nthlf  ^*'"  '^'''^  '"»« 
ness  knows  how  m^^^TJ^  "^'^  ™°™'  good- 
turies  ago.  lnmTk^lrZr^'^\'"'  ^'^'  ^''^en- 
youawfSlly  badly  ^'        ™^  sel&hness,  I've  treated 

"y°s  ^''havr^V  ^^Ul^'^Iared  stoutly, 
told  a  iitiSr  xpSentlr^^^f '  4'^  have 
before  this.  But  ™  dS  T,H^  ^°  ''^"^  '°°« 
totaUy  different  sort  of  Dogrie  l^nd  T' ^'°"  T  ^ 
yoursef  miserable  because^  he's  a  .^?..f  ""^"^"^ 
pathetic.  unfamiUar  stranger''         ^^^''   """y"'" 

bravdy^teA'i.'*''"  f'^r  '  meeting  his  eyes 
fo3-it  doe"sn'f  i'au??"'""  ^°^^'«  '^^  -- 
skSrdTa4£«-4i«^t  Two  very  tender- 
smart  of  seeing  one^icS  bride  in^'ll'-    ^' 

of  another  man^hrirtsgrievoS  ire  J?'«^'  ^™' 
tive  sex  affair,  indenendpiif  n/i^     ■  ".^  ^  P^mu- 

sense.  If  the  savaX^  .tl  a  'T  '"  "^  modern 
with  another  feUow^he^.pfv  "^t  ^"^  "^ 
tomahawks  until  h^' has^™H^  with  clubs  and 
ing  known  MF    tn  ^f  1?    "^°l*e  msult.    Hav- 

So  the  feLt  flower  of  ct^Lr  ^P°"*^  C'««>dilel 


302 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


! 


a  couple  of  years  of  her  life  over  him  that  hp 
had  never  loved  her?  Instead  of  repNiiK T,  he? 
question,  he  walked  about  the  room  WworrS 

••fi.^*^^J*'".^^  K^^  incisively,  after  a  while 
that  you  don't  care  for  me  any  longer  "  ' 

He   turned   and   halted   at   the   c     Hence     Hn 

snapped  his  finprs     What  was  the  g^ot^ 

this  beating  of  the  bush? 
"Look  here,  Peggy,  let's  face  it  out.    If  vnu'll 

confess  that  you  ancf  Olive,  are  in  love  whhCc^ 
"  n'u^  "  ^^^  ^  «  «''l  ^  France." 

f^r,\     .u?  ®i.^  ^  S":'  ™  ^""^ce,  is  there?    How 
long  has  this  been  going  on?" 

"The  last  four  days   in   biUets   before    I   jrot 
ounded.     said  Ttmraia  '■    ooi 


wounded,    said  Doggie. 
"WhatisshelikeP 


'ITien  Doggie  suddenly  laughed  out  loud  and 
took  her  by  the  shoulders  in  I  grasp  rouS  thS 
she  had  ever  dreamed  to  lie  m  the  strpnXtjTT^ 
nature  of  Mannaduke  Trevor,  ^d  kisS Te?  the 
heartiest  honestest  kiss  she  had  ever  had  from 
man,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room 

disSS^e  Maj^'™"''    "^^^^^^   -^   ^    « 

Jh^^p'^'"  ^l^  ^^'  "^  ^t  "P  between  you.  I've 
told  Peggy  about  a  ^1  in  France,  and  ke  wante 
to  know  what  she's  Uke." 

Peggy,  ^aken  by  the  rude  grip  and  the  kiss 
flashed,  and  cried  rebelliously  ' 

withOhv^r!"*^*^  "**  '"'  '^^*  ^  ""^t  t°  ^  't  "P 
"Oh,  yes,  you  do,"  cried  Oliver. 

D^e"  ta?Z  ??j''  "">  "■"  '■«"•''  "  ■» 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  ,„, 

Doggie  settled  his  can   «in„^      ^ 
the  door.  '^P*  gnnned  and  moved  to 

"Anything  else,  sirp" 
Oliver  roared,  delighted-  "iv„    «_• 
you  can  go."  ""^ntea.     No,  Pnvate  Trevor- 

"Very  good,  sir." 

g^«renrht^,-i-*-    He  passed 

^f.e-  off  «i"lei^^r*"?, Jo  «till  ™°^d 

,TEis  is  a  dam'  goS  oL  ,!  T?'  °f.  '^*'«  parage. 

Isn't  it?  "said  he       *        °^''  "^^'^^J-  a"  the  sai^e. 


^  "Come'  aloTIf  mT^S  n^"*  IT^'  *™«-" 
have  a  bite  ofdinnTr  "     ^  ^ownshire  Aims  and 


r^  dinner  "  "»"ue  Arms  and 

piper's  trcS  td'^  fe*'  »<^  p»t  his 

backwards.  *^*^*'  "°<^  Jerked  a  slow  thumb 

%|ie.^  "C^mri?/?'  ^  ^''^  «f  t^ats,"  said 

HS^Yr^-^^^^^^^  yer  wait  a 

"rS\^r^  oW  butto^ laughed  Doggie 

olldt^Vt  ISS  C'^'^l  ^hrou^h  the 
world   Hotel   of  dS^LT™!'  the  select,  old- 


304 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


for  pence  by  the  West  door  of  the  cathedral,  tongues 
could  scarcely  have  wagged  faster.  But  Doggie 
worried  his  head  about  gossip  not  one  jot.  He 
w£is  in  joyous  mood,  and  ordered  a  Gargantuan 
feast  for  Chipmunk  and  bottles  of  the  strongest 
old  Burgundy,  such  as  he  thought  would  get  a 
grip  on  Chipmunk's  whiskyfied  throat;  and  under 
the  genial  influence  of  food  and  drink,  Chipmunk 
told  nim  tales  of  far  lands  and  strange  adventures; 
and  when  they  emerged  much  later  into  the  quiet 
streets,  it  was  the  great  good  fortune  of  Chip- 
mimk's  Ufe  that  there  was  not  the  ghost  of  an 
Assistant  Provost  Marshal  in  Durdlebury. 

"Doggie,  old  man,"  said  OUver  afterwards, 
"my  wonder  and  reverence  for  you  increases  hour 
by  hour.  You  are  the  only  man  in  the  whole 
wide  world  who  has  ever  made  Chipmvmk  drunk." 

"You  see,"  said  Doggie  modestly,  "I  don't 
think  he  ever  reaUy  loved  anyone  who  fed  him 
before." 


H' 


f. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

had  sho^  him    for  the  fi.^n'''   ^'^   gratitude, 
adorable  yo^WomaJ^h^cou^n'e  "  He  S, J^^ 

newligE'wseyrwitar;  P^J:^"^  ^^^^^  « 
in  his^ostor  Ve  wL?  L^r  ^^^^^e  breath 

he   coJdiS?? to^TerToXittien?^^ 

305 


306 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Mi 


i^ti 


tiie  mood  suited,  write  to  her  from  his  heart: 
"Dear  old  Peggy,  I'm  so  glad  you're  happy.  Oliver's 
a  splendid  chap.  El  cetera,  et  cetera,  el  cetera." 
He  had  lost  a  dreaded  bride;  but  he  had  found  a 
dear  and  devoted  friend.  Nay,  more:  he  had 
found  two  devoted  friends.  When  he  drew  up 
his  account  with  humanity,  he  found  himself  pass- 
ing rich  in  love. 

His  furlough  expired,  he  reported  at  his  depot 
and  was  put  on  light  duty.  He  went  about  it 
the  cheeriest  soul  aBve,  and  laughed  at  the  mem- 
ory of  his  former  miseries  as  a  recuit.  This  camp 
life  in  England,  after  the  mud  and  blood  of  France 

—  like  the  African  gentleman  in  Mr.  Addison's 
'Cato,"  he  blessed  his  stars  and  thought  it  luxury. 

He  was  not  sorry  that  the  exigences  of  service  pre- 
vented him  from  being  present  at  the  wedding  of 
Oliver  and  Pecgy.  For  it  was  the  most  sudden 
of  phenomena,  like  the  fight  of  two  rams,  as  Shake- 
speare hath  it.  In  war-time  people  marry  in  haste; 
and  often,  dear  God,  they  have  not  the  leisure 
to  repent.  Since  the  beginning  of  the  war  there 
are  many,  many  women  twice  widowed.  .  .  .  But 
thai  is  by  the  way.  Doggie  was  grateful  to  an 
unpateful  military  system.    If  he  had   attended 

—  m  the  capacity  of  best  man,  so  please  you  — 
so  violent  and  unreasoning  had  Oliver's  affection 
become,  Durdlebury  would  have  gaped  and  whis- 
pered behind  its  hand  and  made  thmgs  uncom- 
fortable for  everybody.  Doggie  from  the  security 
of  his  regiment  wished  them  joy  by  letter  and 
telegram,  and  sent  them  the  wedding  presents 
aforesaid. 

Then,  for  a  season,  there  were  three  happy  people, 
at  least,  in  this  war-wildemess  of  suffering.  The 
newljr  wedded  pair  went  off  fc-  a  honeymoon  whose 
promise  of  indefinite  length  is  eventually  cut 
short  by   an  unromantic   War   ,  iTice.    Oliver   re- 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  397 

pre^nts  anTher  h"  ^^^  ^Cf  ^-^  wedding 

toWsX-'Sira're^U^T"   ^'"'^   »h«   ^ean 
has  KTown  into  "      *  '^'^^tahly  pretty  girl  Peggy 

said  Mr^'conZ?''  ^^  ^°*  *«  '""'  ^^^  'oves." 
:;po  you  think  that's  the  reason?" 

quite    go^-lTw'  ftf   °^^°r°    beco'ne 

"We're  talking  ;Sd         -T  a^juamtance." 
"Ahf"  SiS"§.f  E:«^'   .f^'^dJVI...  Conover. 

saying   that   the   cW  d?' },„r>„°  ^  '^^'■^-    ^  ^as 
in  he?  face-"  happiness   was   reflected 

ConovTr!""  "^""^^^  '  ^"^  '*•  ^^^'"  replied  M«. 

was  folTm*an"Kenf  n'"  ^-i?^-^'  -ho 
hand  in  ben^  dSisS  of  ,?.'^-  ""  ^^^^  « 
a  great  mercy™  ™he*'£,t«LT™^°*-.  ^^^'^ 
man  she  lovel'ii  of- weU   '  ''"' Mr^*^^  *?« 

^S^l.Til^nif'Bi-^  ^  ^SlTt^Se^ 

over  the  engagement  T*f  ^^'?fJ°  "^  «»'°d 

after  .a  turf  ^two  about  t'r^^,  '^■^r"!'.^' 

rhrfa.tt-ikf^tii-F'^e,  i^/£- 

a  brick.  Like  a  gentleman"  ^?t'  V ,t'^''  ^' 
no  man  Ukes  to  s^'°a nXr  feUoi  wL^'ff'^l' 
'jis  sweetheart."  ^^^  ™  with 


4 


308 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"I  don't  think  Mannaduke  was  ever  so  bucked 
in  his  life,"  said  Mrs.  Conover  placidly. 

The    Dean   gasped.    His   wife's   smile   playinif 
iromcaUy  among  her  wrinkles  was  rather  beautifd. 
Peggy  8  word,  Edward,  not  mine.    The  modem 
vocabulary.    It  means  —  " 

"Oh,  I  know  what  the  hideous  word  means. 
It  was  your  using  it  that  caused  a  shiver  down  mv 
spine.    But  why  bucked?"  ' 

"It  appears  there's  a  girl  in  France." 

"  Oho  r  said  the  Dean.    "Who  is  she?" 

"That's  what  Pegp,  even  now,  would  give  a 
good  deal  to  find  out. 

For  pog«ne  had  told  Peggy  nothing  more  about 
the  gu'l  m  France.  Jeanne  was  his  own  precious 
secret.  That  it  was  shared  by  Phineas  and  Mo 
didn  t  matter.  To  disc-jss  her  with  Peggy,  besides 
being  urelevant,  m  the  circumstances,  w<(t  quite 
another  affair.  Indeed,  when  he  had  avowed  the 
gu'l  in  France,  it  was  not  so  much  a  confession  as 
a  gaUant  desire  to  help  Peggy  out  of  her  predica- 
ment. For,  after  all,  what  was  Jeanne  but  a  be- 
loved war-wraith  that  had  passed  through  his  life 
and  disappeared? 

"The  development  of  Maimaduke,"  said  the 
Oewa,     IS  not  the  least  extraordmary  phenomenon 

Now  that  Doggie  had  gamed  his  freedom,  Jeanne 
ceased  to  be  a  wraith.  She  became  once  again 
a  wonderful  thmg  of  flesh  and  blood  towards  whom 
all  his  young,  fresh  instinct  yearned  tremendously. 
One  day  It  struck  his  ingenuous  mind  that,  if  Jeanne 
were  willing,  there  could  be  no  possible  reason  why 
he  should  not  marry  her.  Who  was  to  say  him 
nay?  Convention?  He  had  put  all  the  conven- 
Uons  of  his  life  under  the  auctioneer's  hammer. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  309 

AU  he  had  to  do  wm  ^Z.^  V^''  °^  beauty, 
his  wooing  in  eSf^L°"*--^T°«a°dl>eg/„ 
in  the  world  for  aTellLZ^  ^'™P'*'*  adventSre 
man -if  only  tIaT  v„^  ^'^  ^attached  young 
private  solSofacti^ve'^r  '«''  ''°*  ^^  « 
1^  ht'^eftSl j:*-H,>^«  PJ-^  his  hand  over 

to  Frelus  again?^' NS^Ll'LTnd  or,^'*  ^'  «'' 
any  rate,  which  might  hTvl  u  ^®  *"•  at 
was  nothing  for  it  hn7  a  ^^*".  *'*°<*-  There 
by  letter,  lo  he  Lote  tT'^P^T  ?^  '"t^acy 
loyalty   to  Peg^Xd  mJlTT  ^^  '""«'  ^bicfe 

ago.  ButnoSercMnr-^.^  '^""^^^  ^««^^ 
telling  her  of  Peg^^L-.f^^^^^'ote  another. 

andfiis  hopesfl^  to  th^t  t^'"^""'  ^^  ^^  '^^^ 
to  jSp^'^y'^didX"^;   ^?*  ^1*^  l-^PPe^ed 

?aSndrrS^|^^"^^i^2^r' 
^"wn^£i«^!?£H 

Doggie  tSS  Slslra  CJ'^-  ^'  ^-  ""'« 

right  had  he  to  expect  T^pnn/t^^"  T"'**'  ^^at 
wonder  of  hereelfXr  a  W  i°  ^i^"  ^  «"  *be 
Being  what  he  waf -^  ^e  n^'  •n"^"*^*'«^ 

A^l-athinVoflo^tlhl^— ^S-yrt^ 


310 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


1 
I 


lAf 

-J 

11 

■ffi^  ^ 

^fflt 

.i. 

and  cheap  silk  stockings,  who  had  been  leaninir 
unnoticed  for  some  time  on  the  raiJs  by  his  side, 

SpOK6< 

"You  seem  to  be  pretty  lonely." 
Dog^^e  swerved   round.    "Yes,    I   am,   darned 
lonely. 

"Come  for  a  walk,  or  take  me  to  the  pictures." 

,^And  then?    asked  Doggie,  swinging  to  his  feet. 

It  we  get  on  all  nght,  we  can  fix  up  somethina 

lor  to-morrow.  ^ 

She  was  pretty,  with  a  fair,  frizzy,  insolent  pretti- 
ness  She  might  have  been  any  age  from  fourteen 
to   four-and-twenty. 

Doggie  smiled,  tempted  to  while  away  a  dark 
hour.    But  he  said,  honestly : 

['I'm  afraid  I  should  be  a  dull  companion." 
best   •  f?*"^        matter?"  she  laughed.    "Lost  your 

"&)methiM  like  it."  He  waved  a  hand  across 
tne  sea.       Over  there. 

"French?  OhI"  She  drew  herself  up.  "Aren't 
iin^Iiah  girls  good  enough  for  you?" 

.'When  they're  sympathetic,  they're  delightful," 

'j^^.7°?  "^^  "®  ^^^  Good-bye,"  she  snapped 
and  stalked  away.  "^ 

After  a  few  yards  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder 
to  see  whether  he  was  following.  But  Doeme  re- 
mained by  the  raiUngs  and  presenUy  went  off  to 
a  picture  palace  by  himself  and  thought  wistfully 

And  Jeanne?  WeU,  Jeanne  was  no  longer  at 
t'relus;  tor  there  came  a  morning  when  Aunt 
Morm  was  found  dead  in  her  bed.  The  old  doctor 
came  and  spread  out  his  thin  hands  and  said  "Eh 
bien  and  "Que  voulez-vom?"  and  "It  w8«  bound 
to  happen  soonei  or  later,"  and  murmured  learned 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  jn 

and  vestibuJe  in  heaVv  uVvt.^^  ""^  entrance 
possible  Aunt  Morb^was  laid  t^^  ?  ?*^'J  ««  *«« 
cemetery  adjoining  th^  churl  '^'r""  ^«  "'^e 
back  to'the  Lu^vS  tS?:  tV**  ^^^^  *e°t 
world.  And  becaul^  therTtH  ^"^  '°  ]*•«  ^'^o 
theplacethebaietedsoinTpr^  ^.^°  «  ^'eath  in 
yarf  very  quietly        «''^«'swent  about  the  court- 

Since  Phineas  and  Mo  nnH   n«„  •  . 
had  gone  away,  she  had  dewfed   w^fh'  '  "'^^°* 
sionate  zeal,  all  the  t;m«  pti  irij*'""  "  "^^  pas- 
sick  woman  U,  the  coStf  of  ?hp*^  spare  from  the 
restrained  by  the  SS^hT  1„       ™^°-    No  longer 

Aunt  Morin/but  wiKU' The?'r;n™«^  \ 
—  and  money  restorerf  Z,  k  u  "'^^  **»  sp^nd 
dear  and  heroic^i£.,t' >,^th«e  '»«''« 
unexpected  treats  orrich^.j!  "'"i'*  «!,\«  the™ 

eggs,  fruit She  mend^  !^  T^  "?^?'   ^^^ 

and  suborned  old  women  ^  f  ?  darned  for  them 
spired  with  the  Tov^  M^ior  t«  P  J"*'-.  ^''^  ««>- 
more  habitable-  3  th^-"  T  °  ^^C,^^?"  *°  g^nary 
not  to  issue  a  'ret^  t  a  cTtiiJ!^"''  ^^'^  ^«^ 
ceived  all  her  suff^P,t;^L     *^?*™e »  expense,  re- 

siasm.  ToiSte  "SgTood 'cte'?o"^"'  «°*^- 
every  British  sc^ld^wh^,?^  ^^  to  mipress  upon 
the  fact  that  iT^L  ■  ^P"*^  understand  fcr 
dividu^y  he  wasSrT?"  personally  and  i,: 
the  fame^f  jJaZe  K^t^L'^/t^  ^"«^««. 
sector  of  the  From  bS  whicHav  f'S""^^  r*«* 
currently  spread  the  Xrt    f  ?!   ^  ''fS'^-     Con- 

"  gn-l    ,1th  the  tragic  eyes,  and  when 


312 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


'I,! 


I]»! 


l 


they  departed,   confirmed   the  legend  and  made 
tilings  nasty  for  the  sceptically  s^jperioi  private. 

5»o,  on  the  day  of  the  funeral  of  Aunt  Morin.  the 
whole  of  the  billet  sent  in  a  wreath  to  the  house, 
and  the  whole  of  the  billet  attended  the  service 
m  the  htUe  church,  and  they  marched  back  and 
drew  up  by  the  front  door -a  guard  ol  honour 
ejrtending  a  httle  distance  down  the  road.  The 
other  men  billeted  in  the  village  hung  around, 
together  with  the  remnant  of  the  inhabitants,  old 
men  women  and  children;  but  kept  quite  clear 
of  the  guarded  path  through  which  Jeanne  was 
to  pass.  One  or  two  officers  looked  on  curiously, 
r  .k^^^u^^  "',^''  background.  It  was  none 
of  their  busing.  If  the  men,  in  their  free  time, 
chose  to  put  themselves  on  parade,  without  arms 
™  course,  so  much  the  better  for  the  army. 

Then  Jeanne  and  the  old  Curfi,  in  his  time- 
scaired  shovel-hat  and  his  rusty  soutane,  foUowed 
by  lomette,  turned  round  the  corner  of  Jit  •  ne 
and  emerged  into  the  main  street.  A  s.  rceiit 
gave  a  word  of  command.  The  guard  stool  at 
attention.  Jeanne  and  her  companions  proceeded 
up  the  street,  unaware  of  the  unusual,  until  thev 
entered  between  the  first  two  files.  Then  for  the 
lu^t  tune  the  tears  welled  into  Jeanne's  eyes.  She 
could  only  stretch  out  her  hands  und  cry  romewhat 
wildly  to  the  bronzed  statues  on  each  side  of  her, 
^Merci,  mes  amis,  merci,  merci,"  and  flee  into  the 

The  next  day  Maitre  Pepineau,  the  notary 
summoned  her  to  his  cabinet.  Maitre  Pepineau 
was  verv  old  His  partner  had  gone  oflF  to  the 
war.  One  of  the  necessiUes  of  the  present  situa- 
tion, he  would  say,  "is  that  I  should  go  on  living 
m  spite  of  myself;  for  if  I  died  the  wTiole  of  thi 
atfmrs  of  Frflus  would  be  in  the  soup."  Now. 
a  turtaight  nack,  Maitre  Pepineau  and  four  neigh- 


THE  ROUGH  UOAD  313 

boura  — the   four    witnesses   required    Lv    Frenrh 
aw  when  there  U  only  one  no^yTdraw  u7£, 
instrument  puUic- had   visited  Aunt   Mori?  iS 
Jeanne  knew  that  she  had  made  a  fresh  wiS     ' 

Mon  enfant,  said  the  old  man.  unfoldinir  the 
document  Sn  a  previous  will  your  Aunt  h^  left 
you  a  httle  heritage  out  of  the  half  of  her  fortune 
wind,  she  was  free  to  dispose  of  by  the  c^e  'R 
having  come  mto  possession  of  your  own  money 
she  has  revoked  tfiaT^U.  and  feft  everJtCg*^ 
gaLT'^  "^'""«  *"'•  ^""P"^  MorinTnMfd^ 
'•It  is  only  just  and  right,"  said  Jeanne. 

mJ^  p"iv°'*"''°*5.  P"'  of  the  matter."  said 
Maltre  P^pmeau.  "is  that  Madame  Morin  has 
appointed  official  trustees  to  carry  onThe  «,£?! 
untJ  Monsieur  Gaspard  Morin  caA  make  L  ^ 
arrangements.  The  result  is  that  you  have  Z 
hem  standi  as  a  resident  in  the  hou.^  I  St^ 
this  out  to  her  Bui  you  know,  in  8rite*^"S 
good  quahUes.  she  was  obstinate It  i«^ 

S^it^n""^''  ""^  **'"  '^^'  ^  "^^^^  »o  8tate^ 
"I, am  then."  said  Jeanne,  "sans  asile -■homfi- 


is^ot'ce^ed'-y'i?'""  °'  '''"^'"-  ^"P^  Morin 
;;And  mv  English  soldiers?"  asked  Jeanne. 

wJiifl  ^'.k'"^  ^^"^  '■^P"^'^  ^^  oW  man,   "you 
will  find  them  everywhere."  ' 

.   Which  was  cold  consolation.    For,  however  much 

inspu-ed  by  patriotic  gratitude  a  FVench  Z^ay 

be,  she  cannot  settle  down  in  a  strange  pla^  where 

Brmah  troops  are  biUeted,  and  proceed  rtraTghtway 

to  minister  to  theu-  comforts.    MisunderstandkiS 

f.t^i^  arise  even  m  the  best  regulated  BritiS 

rcsuncriUi.     In  the  Louse  of  Aunt  Morin.  in  Frelus 

her  position  was  unassailable.    Anywhere  else 


314 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


S^lf 


"So,   my   good    Toinette,"    said    JeannP    afto, 
«o.    M'dmoijell,  could  teach  her  nothing  alxiot 

s^sscej^irfooEC'-:^^" 

s^^nrh.Mis;he'=;.*Ss 

"It  IS  I  who  remember  Paimpol  "  sairl  T«;r,-.t* 

^  S^S'ct '/T  °rf  °j"»  a".!.?  S 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  315 

wen-v^''z  j^Tdrd  "At?*!!  nf 

I  would  never  want  to  Wk  afi'l,.  .  >)""«" 

ArgoiiJie?^""   ^'"^'°"'    '"^'   '«   figJ^ting   in    the 
Ce«/  vrai,"  said  Jeanne. 

no  reason  to  love  her  Aunt  Morin     H»w  .i,^.'* 

ffo^rL-^'-s^firlS^^^^^^^ 

Itan.  Annt  Morin.  .^.rf^  t£  wiiJiS'  Zm^ 


Hi 


316 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I  ' 


Tni^^^'^i?*^    ^'''^^P,'  ,««   f"   as   it   concerned 
Toinette.    Forty   yeare'   faithful   service  deserved 

STirtit?°°'  *  '"^^^  ^^  ^^  "^  °^  ^■^'^^^ 

''So  we  must  separate,  Toinette?" 
Alas,  yes,  MademoiseUe  —  unless  MademoiseUe 
would  come  with  me  to  Paimpol." 

Jeanne  laughed  What  should  she  do  in  Paim- 
po  ?  There  wasn  t  even  a  fisherman  left  there  to 
leiii  m  love  with. 

"MademoiseUe,"  said  Toinette  later,  "do  you 
think  you  wiU  meet  the  Uttle  English  soldier.  Mon- 
sieur Trevor,  in  Paris?"  CI,  mou 

Jeaim""*  '"  ^"*'^'^*  ""  "*  **  ''^''  Jamais,"  said 

But  there  was  more  of  personal  decision  than  of 
fatahsm  m  her  tone. 

So  Jeanne  waited  for  a  dav  or  two  until  the  regi- 
ment matched  away,  and  tiien,  with  heavy  hem 
set  out  for  Paris.  She  wrote,  indeed,  to  thine^' 
and  weeks  aftemards  Phineas,  who  was  in  the  thick 
ot  the  ^mme  fightmg,  wrote  to  Doggie  telling  him 

o!  ^^'■».*'iP,'*^*T  ^^""^  ^'^'"«:  •'"t  regretted  that 
M  he  had  lost  her  letter  he  could  not  ^ve  him  her 
Pans   address. 

And  in  the  meantime  the  house  of  Gaspard  Morin 
was  shuttered  and  locked  and  sealedT  and  the 
bureaucratically  minded  old  Postmaster  of  Fr^lus 
who  had  received  no  instructions  from  Jeanne  to 
torward  her  correspondence,  handed  Doggie's  letters 
and  telegrams  to  the  aged  postman,  a  superan- 
nuated herdsman,  -ho  stuck  them  into  the  letter 
box  of  the  deserted  house,  and  went  away  conscious 
ot  duty  perfectly  accomplished. 

„3^°'.^*-lf  *'  ?°P^'  £*  ^^^  f"'"  active  service, 
went  out  with  a  draft  to  France,  and  joined  Phinea^ 
and  Mo,  ahnost  the  only  survivors  of  the  cheery 
femibar  crowd  that  he  had  loved,  and  the  grimnei 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  317 

fr^^h-^^  ?"*'?'  ^  ^«  ^"^  never  conceived  Dossible 

desert  and  make  my  way  to  Paris  and-"  " 

your^ly^toS^a  r'Sne'waT^  ?^^  ^°"  ""^^ 

exrpS^H?p   f  *'°  *  l«iow  what  I  can  do  for  youfaddie 
except  die  of  remorse  at  your  feet."  ^  ' 

We  re  aU  going  to  die  of  rheumatic  fever " 
^ast^EdrU"^^'"^  ^  ^  -'<^-  -^o^- 
vrSS  I*W.I^  hand  beneath  his  clothing  and 

mtense  heat,  from  which  he  gravely  bit  an  inci 

''What's  that?"  asked  Doggie 
st;il  l^^f ''^  of  peppermmt/'  said  Phineas.    "IVe 
Serce."  •"*  "  ^^^'^  -^°  --embers  my' 
^^oggie  stuck  out  his  hand  like  a  monkey  in  the 

"You  selfish  beasti"  said  he. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  fighting  went  on,  and  to  Doggie  the  in- 
habitants of  the  outside  world  became  ahnost 
A  .  as  phantasmagorical  as  Phineas's  providential 
Aunt  in  Galashiels.  Immediate  existence  held  him. 
In  an  historic  battle,  Mo  Shendish  fell  with  a  ma- 
chine bullet  through  his  heart.  Doggie,  staggering 
with  the  rest  of  the  company  to  the  attack  over  the 
muddy,  sheU-tom  ground,  saw  him  go  down,  a  few 
yards  away.  It  was  not  tiU  later  that  he  knew 
be  bad  gc«ie  West  with  many  other  great  souls. 
w°M'^.^^  Phineas  mourned  for  him  as  a  brother. 
Without  him,  France  was  a  muddier  and  a  bloodier 
plMe,  and  ^e  outside  world  more  unreal  than  ever. 
Iben  to  Doggie  came  a  heart-broken  letter  from 
the  Dean.  Oliver  had  gone  the  same  road  as 
Mo.  Peggy  was  frantic  with  grief.  Vividly  Doggie 
saw  the  peaceful  deanery,  on  which  all  the  calaimty 
..  «,r^  7^,  ^^^  crashed  with  sudden  violence. 

Why  I  should  thank  God  we  parted  as  friends, 
don  t  qmte  know,"  said  Doggie,  '*but  I  do  " 
I  suppose  laddie,"  said  l>hineas,  "it's  good  to 
leel  that  smihng  eyes  and  hearty  hands  wfll  greet 
us  when  we  too  pass  over  the  Border.  My  God, 
man,    he  added  reflectively,  after  a  pause,  "have 

Inf  iTa^T^"*''^^'***  ^^^*'  *  Soodly  company  it 
wiU  be?  WTien  you  come  to  look  at  it  that  way,  it 
makes  Death  quite  a  trivial  affair." 

"I  supMse  It  does  to  us  while  we're  here,"  said 
Doggie.  We  ve  seen  such  a  lot  of  it.  But  to 
those  who  haven  t  — my  poor  Peggy -it's  the 
end  ol  her  umverse. 

Yes,  it  was  all  very  well  to  take  death  philo- 

318 


I 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  319 

sophically,  or  fatalistically,  or  callousTv  n^  »»,.. 
vou  liked  tn  pbII  it   -^  .u     ''""pis'y.  or  whatever 

reserve,  and  so  continued  Zing  the  tu^tl  "" 
winter  months.  And  the  morP  f h!  '1  ^^'^?^ 
crept  by.  and  the  mo^  remote  ^erZdL*^^' 
g'^Xf,.  Doggie  hungeredTofthrSft  ofTer' 

to  be  court-martialled  and^i*2  !n"^7/g°'°g 
was  declared,  when  they  wodd  have  Ze  to  S 

to  Rwir  '°«ttf^-r^«Pt«i°  WUloughb?  had  S 
to  Rhghty  with  a  leg  so  mauled  that  never  wS 
he  command  again  a  companv  in  the  fillS     « 
geant  BaUinghall,  who  haltelght  Doggfe'to^" 

be  informs  B^.S^in^t^^^X^^ 


320 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


on  tiie  invention  of  a  boxing  dove  which  would 
enahle  hun  to  carry  on  his  pugilistic  career.    "So 
m  future  times  "  said  he,  "if  any  of  yo.u-  friend^ 
among  the  nobihty  and  gentry  want  lessons  in  the 
?  n  f.  ^,V  ^°^  *  ^"""S®*  y°"r  old  friend  Balling- 
hall.      Whereat — mcidentally  —  Doggie  wondered. 
INever,  for  a  fracUon  of  a  second,  during  their  com- 
mon  mihtary   associaUon,    had    Ballinghall   given 
Jmn  to  understand  that  he  regarded  hun  otherwise 
than  as  a  mere  Tommv,  without  any  pretensions 
to  gentihty.    There  had  been  times  when  Balling- 
hall    had    cursed    him  — perhaps   justifiably    and 
perhaps   lovingly  —  as   though   he   had   been   the 
scum  of  the  earth.    Doggie  would  no  more  have 
dared  address  him  in  terms  of  famiUarity  than  he 
would  have  dared  slap  the  Brigadier-General  on 
the  back.    And  now   the  honest   warrior  -ouffht 
Doggies    patronage.     Of    the    original    crowd    in 
hJigland  \fho  had  transformed  Doggie's  military 
existence  by  makmg  him  penny-whistler  to   the 
Company,    only   Phmeas   and   himself  were   left 
rhere  were  ou.ers,  of  coiuse,  good  and  gallant 
leUows,  with  whom  he  became  bound  in  the  rough 
mtunacy  of  the  Army;   but  the  first  friends,  those 
under   whose   protecting   kmdUness   his   manhood 
iMd  developed,  were  the  dearest.    And  their  ghosts 
remamed  dear. 

At  last  the  Division  was  moved  up,  and  there 
was  more  fighting. 

One  day,  after  a  successful  raid.  Doggie  tumbled 
back  with  the  rest  of  the  men  mto  the  trench  and 
lookmg  about,  missed  Phineas.  Presently  the  word 
went  round  that  "Mac"  had  been  hit,  and  later 
the  rumour  was  confirmed  by  the  passage  down 
the  trench  of  Phmeas  on  a  sUetcher,  his  weather- 
oattered  face  a  ghastly  ivory. 
^  "y^  ^"^f.  «".  "eht,  laddie,"  he  gasped,  con- 
torting his  hps  mto  a  smile.    "I've  got  it  dean 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  321 

through  the  chest  like  a  genUeman.    But  it  san 
me  greet  I  canna  look  after  you  any  longer."       ^ 

He  made  an  attempt  at  waving  a  hSid,  and  the 
firmer         '"  ""'^^  ^  "^^'  «"*  otthfa^y 

..It^^t^^Iu  P°«?«^^  ''«^*  **»«  l°°eliest   thing  on 
earti.  hke  SheUey's  cloud,  or  the  Last  Man  in  Tom 

S^p'n^™  rj^""-  ^"^  ""^  1»«  °«t  ^^  last  m^ 
Hrpni  nf  '^^  Company,  as  he  had  joined  it,  h,^ 
dreds  of  years  ago  \n  England?  It  was  only  thin 
that  he  reahsed  fully  the  merits  of  the  wastrel 
Phmeas  McPhail  Not  once  or  twice,  but  TS 
sand  tmies  had  the  man's  vigUant  affection,  veiled 

N^'".nT'^.^'^^'"'  ^^^  ^  from  delp^ 
Not  once,  but  a  thousand  thnes  had  the  gaunt 
toeless  Scotchman  saved  him  from  physicllTx: 
haustion.    At  every  turn  of  his  career    since  his 

helpful,  devoted.  There  he  had  been  alwavs 
mdy  and  willing  to  be  curbed.  To  cShi^Zd 
been  l^e  great  comfort  of  Doggie's  Ufe.  Whom 
could  he  curee  now?  Not  a  ISul-no  one  ^ 
any  rate,  agamst  whom  he  could  launch  an  ankth- 

IZ  Z^.J^'^i^^e^^  ^  '*•  Than  ««««  vainly 
and  superficially,  far  better  not  to  curse  at  alL 
He  missed  Phmeas  beyond  all  his  conception  of  ^e 
blankness  of  bereavement.  Like  himsSf,  PhL^ 
had  found  salvation  in  the  army.  Doggie  reah^ 
how  he  had  striven  in  his  own  qieer  wayto  rX^ 
the  ^HLUainy  of  his  tutorship.  No  ^ImL^S 
^"L^?  T^^  8«°*le,  more  unselfish.  ^ 

Doggie.  am   I    going   to  do?"  said 

wi^TS  f^*^^' J^>  «  ^n'Jon  hospital 
Smestlv^f  .^°f"?^  >  ^y-  ^°"«ht  much*and 


322 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


"Deah  Madam, 

"  Time  was  when  I  could  not  have  addressed  you  wilh- 
out  incurring  your  not  unjustifiable  disapproval. 
aut  1  take  the  liberty  of  doing  so  now,  trusting  to 
your  generous  acquiescence  in  the  proposition  thai 
the  war  has  purged  many  offences.  If  this  has  not 
happened,  to  some  extent,  in  my  case,  I  do  not  see 
now  it  has  been  possible  for  me  to  have  regained  and 
retained  the  trust  and  friendship  of  so  sensitive  and 
honourable  a  gentleman  as  Mr.  Marmaduke  Trevor. 

If  I  ask  you  to  come  and  see  me  here,  where  I  am 
tying  severely  wounded,  it  is  not  with  an  intention  to 

TH  L"^•^T'i^•'j^  "^yf'V  personalty -although 
I  It  not  deny  Oiat  the  sight  of  a  kind  and  familiar 
face  would  not  be  a  boon  to  a  lonely  and  friendless 
man  —  but  with  a  deep  desire  to  advance  Mr.  Trevor's 
happiness.  Lest  you  may  imagine  I  am  committing 
an  unpardonable  impertinence,  and  thereby  totalh 
misunderstand  me,  I  may  say  that  this  happiness 
can  only  be  achieved  by  the  aid  of  powerful  friends 
both  m  London  and  Paris.  r       j     j      <^ 

"It  is  only  because  the  lad  is  the  one  thing  dear  to 
me  left  m  the  world,  that  I  venture  to  intrude  on  your 
privacy  at  such  a  time.  "^ 

I  am. 
Dear  Madam, 
Xours  very  faithfully, 
Phineas  McPhail." 

Peggy  ceme  down  to  breakfast,  and  having  duti- 
fully kissed  her  parents,  announced  her  intention 

>??T^  ^  London  by  the  eleven  o'clock  train. 
Why,  how  can  you,  my  dear?"  asked  Mrs.  Con- 
over. 

"I've  nothing  particular  to  do  here  for  the  next 

''But  your  fattier  and  I  have.  Neither  of  us  can 
start  oil  to  London  at  a  moment's  notice." 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  323 

Peggy  replied  with  a  wan  smile:  "But  dei.r«» 
mother,  you  fonrpt  I'm  o^^ij  •  ■  '  "icarest 
woman!"  ^  ^    "''*•    °W    ™«Tied 

aZ^f^^'  ™y  <lear'"  ^d  lie  Dean,  "Pegey  baa 
olten  gone  away  by  herseh'"  ^«=88y  "aa 

'•Anlff"''*'; ***  ^ndon.'-  said  Mra.  Conover 

them  I'm  coig"       ^^  "^  Sturrocks''  and  leU 
;;  Yes,  Miss,"  said  Burford. 
Me  s  as  bad  as  you  are,  mother,"  said  Peeirv 

S'^she  w'^^^'-    P^«^  Srl^ried"'  st 
X^nU    i?  1  ''''"^^"  «"°t'ie''  hotel.     But  where 

hSer'jIf  Sndt.^  oC^t'Wa  '"^'^  ^^^ 
Clarid^e's;    every"'oU.T  dme^'a't  feks'^Ve 

ridK-l.Tbir    ^"ghte"^   heTtnd    S 
in  ^1  I  ^1  °'  "'^'  *^^  sanctified  for  ever     Oliver 

JaSrdtt'befor^eTe -t'^f  ^^^  "^TJJ 

Soth^  ''fn-^w*  IrabLS^acS 

into  the  same  generous,  old-fashioned  fire,'tM£f 


324 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


—  tbnking   ...    And  she  remembered  clencluM 
1     J    ..%**  apostrophising  the  fire  and  cryingout 
aloud:  "Oh,  my  God  I  if  only  he  makes  good  I ''^ 

Oceans  of  years  lay  between  then  and  now 
Uoggie  had  made  good;  every  man  who  came  home 
wounded  must  have  made  good.  Poor  old  Doggie 
But  how  m  the  name  of  all  that  was  meant  by  the 
word  Lflve  she  could  ever  have  contemplated  — 
as  she  had  contemplated,  with  an  obstinate,  vir- 
gmal  loyalty  — marriage  with  Doggie,  she  could 
not  understand. 

She  undressed,  brought  the  straight-backed  chair 
close  to  the  fire,  and,  in  her  daL  y  nightgown,  part 
ot  her  trousseau,  sat  elbow  on  knee,  face  in  thin 
tJutching  hands,  slippered  feet  on  fender,  thinking' 
thi^ung  once  8,7nin.    Thinking  now  of  the  gatS 
of  Paradise  th-^t  li^d  opened  to  her  for  a  few  brief 
weeks.    Of  the  man  who  never  had  to  make  good 
bemg  the  wonder  of  wonders  of  men,  the  delicious 
compamon,   the  incomparable  lover,   the  all-com- 
pelhng  reyealer,  the  great,  gay,  scarcely,  to  her 
woman  s  limited  power  of  vision,  comprehended, 
heroic  soldier.    Of  the  terrifying  meaningiessness  of 
bfe,  now  that  her  God  of  Very  God,  in  human  form 
had  been  swept,  on  an  instant,  off  the  earth  into 
the  Unknown. 

Yet  was  life  meaningless  after  all?  There  must 
be  some  significance,  some  inner  truth  veiled  in 
mystery,  behind  even  the  casually  accepted  and 
never  probed  religion  to  which  she  had  been  bom 
and  m  which  she  had  found  poor  refuge.  For,  like 
manv  of  her  thoughtless,  unquestioning  class,  she 
had  looked  at  Christ  through  stained-glass  windows, 
and  now  the  windows  were  darken^.  .  .  .  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life  her  soul  groped  intensely 
towards  eternal  verities.  The  fire  burned  low 
and  she  shivered.  She  became  again  the  bit  of 
human  flotsam   cruelly   buffeted   by    the   waves 


THE  BOUGH  ROAD  jjS 

parimr  to  walk  nKr^-j*^    eleven  as  she  was  pre- 

^^«  sat  down  by  his  bedside. 

tree -^sS^lJLn'r  ^ToTS^^^f-  ^t"^' 
it  is  a  wee  bit  overwhelmLJ  "  "''*'"  ^"^  ™«' 

"It's  very  little  to  do  forl)ogrie's  best  frionH  " 
Phineas  s  eyes  twinided      "  if  CV.7.     nV-  '"f?a- 

"The  pi  in  ^a^S"       *^  °^ ""'"^  *°  y°"-" 

P«rW  you  know^Tiwit  "  """  ^^  "^^^  y°"' 
was^rJe"SS-rS^.?-^;A£i.F.^; 


326  THE  ROUGH  ROAD 

STTo/^'Su?"*  you  wounded -and  what  can  we 

She  dragged  from  a  reluctant  Phineas  the  histor- 
of  his  wound,  and  obtained  confimiaUon  of  hib 
statement  from  a  nurse  who  happened  to  pass  up 
the  ga<igway  of  the  pleasant  ward  and  Ungered  by 
the  tedside.  McPhail  was  doing  splendidly  (» 
course,  a  man  with  a  hole  tlu-ough  his  body  must 
be  expected  to  go  back  to  the  regime  of  babyhood. 
So  long  as  he  behaved  himself  like  a  weU-conducled 
baby  all  would  be  weU.  Peggy  drew  the  nu«e 
a  few  yards  away. 

o  ^'""V^^J^^T^  •*."'  ^^  ''^"^t  friend  out  there, 
a  bov  whom  he  oves  dearly  and  has  been  through  the 
whole  thmg  with  him  m  t!.e  same  company -it's 
odd,  but  he  was  Ins  private  tutor  years  ago —  both 

f ^nfJlf  "Vi""  '^'Vr  ~  '■"  ^"'=''  ^'™  *»«^«  J"«t  to  talk 
^  w^f  H  ^^«P  ^^^  somewhat  incoherent 
— ,  WeU  —  I  ve  lust  heard  that  the  boy  has  been 
seriously  wounded.    Shall  I  teU  him?" 

kJ^  li^°:^^  ^  •'?"*'■  ^°  *^t  f""-  a  few  days. 
Any  shock  hke  that  sends  up  their  temperatures  — 

downtliicd"'^™'""-""'    ^''^    «^^*^«  '^ 

^  Sf'^net'  'ifW'snoSerL't 
amazingly,  Mr.  McPhail."  ^  ^  ^^  "" 

r,i^         f"^'-    "I™,  grateful  to  you,  Mrs.  Man- 
mnstree,    for    concermng   yourself   about   my    en- 
tu-ely  unimportant  carcass.    Now,  as  Virgil  savs 
paullo  majora  canemus.'"  "        ^  ' 

'•You  have  me  there,  Mr.  McPhail,"  said  Pe^jry 
•    .uV^fj""^  **f  somewhat  greater  things.    That 
18  the  bald  translation.    Let  us  talk  ofBoirtrie  - 
if  so  be  It  18  agreeable  to  you."  ** 

"Carry  on,'  said  Peggy. 

wJ3*"i.'li^1  ^^",^^'    *,?  ^'^g^  at  the  beginning, 
we  marched  mtott  place  called  Fr61u8—"   ^^^^' 


THE  HOUGH  ROAD  337 

Farm  of  La  Folethf^o  .?".^  ^^d  to  the 

Doggie  did  that?    Doggie?" 
GuJdecZm:^^'^"  P'^y  '°  ^^'^l  he  had  to  do  at 
Gu^edeco'S^'  ""^^  "^^^  ^«  vague  heroism  of 

tive%r;i7s,ue'trunWX-  tT"" 
for  this  g&lJeaMTe?"  *    '''*   «pisode- 

suggestive   of   unctuo^"^     -li^    ^P'  ^'""'v«'y 
Identical  words  were  used  h^M  J       •^'??°*'    ^hos* 

you  wm  nardnn    ""/""'^".'^Pourmo'    But  — 

Presently  she  l"'-d^n  wi^  o  "if  \°^  ^«  ^^'tJ'-" 
"Wh^isn'tthisg...  doi^Pi^^^  "  ""^  °^  *fa«  «ye« 

myself,  with  ml  ScoT,^"",^^*  ^  ^^»y«  regnj-ded 
and  ^i-tion;>h^^°^terryrvert^Lf  S 


328 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


Dog^e.  I  m  bMinning  to  have  my  doubto.  I  also 
uMgined  that  I  was  very  careful  of  my  psraonal 
betongings;  but  facte  have  convicted  me  of  CTuninal 

M^ISSpS^"     ""'**  *'""'^  ***  *  confession, 

..^^^^^  '*'*  ™  ^^  "Mture  of  one,"  he  assented. 

But,  by  your  leave,  Mrs.  Manningtree,  I'U  resume 

my  narrative."  «=»uukj 

He  continued  the  story  of  Jeanne;  how  she  had 
learned  through  him  of  Doggie's  wealth  and  posi- 
Upn  and  early  upbrinmng;  of  the  memor^le 
dinner  party  with  poor  Mo;  of  Doggie's  sensitive 
mterpretation  o,  fier  French  bourgeoise  attitude; 
and  finaUy  of  the  loss  of  the  letter  containing  her 
address  m  Paris. 

After  he^d  finished,  Pewry  sat  for  a  long  while 
tiunking.  -This  romance  in  Doggie's  life  had  moved 
her  «e  she  thought  she  could  never  be  moved  since 
the  death  of  Ohver.  Her  thoughte  winged  them- 
selves back  to  an  afternoon,  remote  ahnost  as  her 
socked  Mid  sashed  childhood,  when  Doggie,  im- 
macuktely  attu-ed  m  grey  and  pearl  hSnonies. 
had  declared,  with  his  httle  efiFemmate  drawl,  that 
tennis  made  one  so  terribly  hot.  The  scene  in 
the  Deanery  garden  flashed  before  her.  It  was 
succeeded  by  a  scene  in  the  Deanery  drawing  room, 
when  to  herself  mdignant  he  had  pleaded  Ms  deli- 
cacy of  constitution.  And  the  same  Doggie,  besides 
bravmg  death  a  thousand  times  in  the  ordinarv 
execution  of  his  soldier's  duties,  had  performed 
this  queer  deed  of  heroism  for  a  girl,  ^en  his 
return  to  Durdlebmy  — 

,  ,','^'™  afraid,"  she  said  suddenly,  "I  was  dread- 
fully unkmd  to  hm  when  he  came  home  the  last 
time.    1  didn  t  understand.    Did  he  tell  you?" 

Phmeas  stretched  out  a  hand  and  with  me  tips 
of  his  hngers  touched  her  sleeve. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  329 

yoll'fcw  tte;;  i\^i  -%.,  -don't 

j^^^^„        '^i-  i^oggies  a  very  wonderful  gentle- 
Again  her   eyes   grew   moist.    "Yes.    I  lrn«- 

fi:^t.^i^-Mt-c^^ 

d^^^^'^'^^y^oT^^nd.    "YouVe 

"Maybe."  said  Phineas.  "It's  an  ill  „»,  *i,  . 
blows  nobody  jfood  aiTl'™^  *  "'.^^T  *^t 
this  one.  ButCwe^telkwT  complaining  of 
henaion  of  Dogjie"  ^^  "^  ^""^  miscompre- 

d^rs^JtSs^- ■" "  *"  °»«"* "  — .■»- 

been  «««  .too,  ,nl.j„dgi„g  e,en,bii^'°e^i^! 


330 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


bk^JrtW    *7^8  to  see  a  Uttle  bit -a  litUe 
tot  further  — I  can't  express  myself— " 
^*k-®T  ^**'  **"•  Manningtree,"  said  Phineas 

«!5  1    fu  *?  ^^  politicians  and  the  philosophere 
and  the  theologians,  and  other  such  wmdyTS 

Sde^*^'"^^-    B»t  yo"  can  expre^^ySf 

;;how?" 

"Find  Jeanne  for  Doggie." 
^^Peggy  bent  forward  with  a  queer  light  in  her 

de^S^tote&p^-'^y  '*»^«  '^  -  »>« 

n..-7lfc„?f\°^*^°i  ¥^-  Mannmgtree,that  I  com- 
mit myself  to  a  definite  statement.  But.  to  mv 
o^  knowledge,  these  two  are  breakiig  thS^ 
tef^'  each  other.  Couldn't  youfiS  her 
before  the  poor  laddie  is  killed?" 

-,*J*^'*  55*  ^.^  Y^*'  ^^^  Godl"  said  Peeirv 
with  an  odd  thriD  in  her  voice.  "'^sV, 

Hew;asdive.  Only  severely  wounded.  He  would 
be  commg  home  soon,  carried,  according  to  convoy 
TlnH  '^"i?**'^  ^J^P'*^  dmnping-«-Sund^Te 
K^  jTf'T-  ,  V'^y  *«  coid  bring  this 
«^^,f?*  ^  It'  ^^^  ye*™^'  to  make  ilpara- 
tion  for  the  past,  to  act  accordbg  to  the  new  knowl- 
edge that  love  and  sorrow  had  broughlhw 

""t  now  can  I  find  her  — just  a  rirl  — an  mi. 
S'p^r   "^"^"^  B-^--  -  amonftiie  .^^ 

rZh^^""  '*".^»  my  brains  aU  the  morning," 
rephed  Phmeas   "to  recall  the  address,  and  out  of 

pLI^^  ^T  ^°^?.'«^  J"«*  t^«  ^OTd,,  Port 

"T  <lL^fv*  '"'"^  P^s,"  replied  Peggy  hmnblv. 
1  don  t  know  anything.    I'm  utterly  ignorant."   ' 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  331 

"TTie  due  to  the  labyrinth."  replied  Phineas. 


I  I 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  Dean  of  an  English  cathedral  is  a  per- 
sonage. He  has  power.  He  can  stand  with 
folded  arms  at  its  door  and  forbid  entrance 
to  anyone,  save  perhaps  the  King  in  person.  He 
can  tell  not  only  the  Bishop  of  the  Diocese,  but 
the  very  Archbishop  of  the  Province,  to  run  away 
and  play.  Having  power,  and  using  it  benignly 
and  graciously,  he  can  exert  its  subtler  form  known 
as  miluence.  In  the  course  of  his  distinguished 
career  he  is  bound  to  make  many  queer  friends 
in  high  places. 

"  My  dear  Field  Marshal,  could  you  do  me  a  little 
favour  .  .  .?" 

"My^^  dear    Ambassador,    my    daughter,    etc., 

CIC* •  •  ■ 

Deans,  discreet,  dignified  gentlemen,  who  would 
not  demand  the  impossible,  can  generally  get  what 
they  ask  for. 

When  Peggy  returned  to  Durdlebury  and  i 
Doggie's  case  before  her  father,  and  with  unust 
fwvour  roused  him  from  his  first  stupefaction  at 
the  idea  of  her  mad  project,  he  said  mildly: 

"Let  me  understand  clearly  what  you  want  to 
do.  You  war.t  to  go  to  Paris  by  yourself,  discover 
a  girl  called  Jeanne  Boissiere,  concerning  whose 
address  you  know  nothing  but  two  words  — Port 
Royal  —  of  course  there  is  a  Boulevard  Port  Royal 
somewhere  south  of  the  Luxembourg  Gardens  — 

"Then  we've  found  her,"  cried  Peggy.  "We 
only  want  the  number." 

'  Please  don't  interrupt,"  said  the  Dean.    "You 
confuse  me,  my  dear.    You  want  to  find  this  girl 
332 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


333 


and  re-establish  communication  between  her  and 
■    gSS/'    ^^-^'-S^'^y    iplay    Fairy 
;;  If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way,"  said  Peggy 
•  ?^  ??"  ^te  certain  you  would  be  actimr 
''•ffly?    From  Mannaduke's  point  of  view  — " 

Dont  call  him  Marmaduke— "  She  bent  for- 
WMd  and  touched  his  knee  caressingly  —  "Manna- 
duke  could  never  have  risked  his  life  for  a  woman 
It  was  Dojtgie  who  did  it.  She  thinks  of  him  as 
JJoggie.  Everyone  thinks  of  him  now  and  loves 
5™,  as  Do-gie.  It  was  OUver's  name  for  him. 
don  t  you  aeeP  And  he  has  stuck  it  out,  and  made 
It  a  sort  of  title  of  honour  and  affection  — and  it 
was  as  Doggie  that  Oliver  learned  to  love  him,  and 
m  his  last  letter  to  OUver  he  signed  himself  '  Your 
aevoted  Doggie.'" 

«.'«^^.*^?^''"   ®™*^    *^e    Dean    and    quoted- 

Whats  m  a  name?    Arose—"' 

'Would  be  unendurable  if  it  were  called  a  — a 
bug-s^ash.  The  poetry  would  be  knocked  out 
01  it. 

The  Dean  said  indulgently:  "So  the  nar  -  Peggie 
connotes  something  poetic  and  romantic?" 
You  ask  the  girl  Jeanne." 

Tie  Dean  tapped  the  back  of  his  daughter's 
nand  that  rested  on  his  knee. 

"There's  no  fool  hke  an  old  fool,  my  dear.  Do 
you  know  why?" 

She  shook  fier  head. 

"Because  the  old  fool  has  Ie&.aed  to  understand 
the  young  fool,  whereas  the  young  fool  doesn't 
understand  anybody." 

She  laughed  and  threw  herself  on  her  knees  by 
his  side. 

"Daddy,  you're  immensel" 

He  took  the  tribute  complacently.  "What  was 
I  saymg,  before  you  interrupted  me?    Oh,  yes. 


334 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


About  the  wisdom  of  your  proposed  action.    Are 
you  sure  they  want  each  other?  " 

..As  sure  as  I'm  sitting  here,"  said  PeinrY 
rhen,  mv  dear."  said  he,  'Til  do  whit  I  can." 

Whether  he  wrote  to  Field  Marshals  and  Am- 
bassadors or  to  lesser  luminaries  Peeiry  did  not 
kflow  The  Dean  observed  an  oli-wofS^punctmo 
about  such  matters.  At  the  first  reply  or  two  to 
his  letters  he  frowned;  at  the  secon/ or  two  h^ 
anJed  m  the  way  any  elderly  gentleman  may  151 
when  he  finds  hunself  recognised  by  high-and- 
mi^^htmesses  as  a  person  of  importance. 

i?^',™y  ^^•"  ^d  ^e  at  last,  "I've  arraneed 
everything  for  you."  <u""igea 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  while  Doeeie  with  a 
shattered  shoulder  and  a  touched  iTllJ  wat 
being  transported  fix>m  a  base  hospital  iTprance 
to  a  h(»pital  m  England,  Peggy,  Uied  with  dl 

^fi°LP*^P*'^,«°'*  recommendations,  and  a 
very  fixed,  personal  sanctified  idea,  was  crossing 
tne  Lbannel  on  her  way  to  Paris  and  Jeanne. 

,r-.^*^'-^*f  ^'  '*  '^*^.°°  ^'J**  «o«se  chase,  but  a 
very  sum)le   matter.    An  urbane,   elderly   person 
at  the  tfritish.  Embassy  performed   cemhTiT 
phonic  gymnastics.    At  the  end: 
Merci,  merci.    Adieu!" 

He  turned  to  her. 

"A  representative  from  the  Prefecture  of  PoUce 
wiU  wait  on  you  at  your  hotel  at  ten  o'clock  to- 
morrow mormng. 

==J^L°?'^^*^..''^f^'  *°°^  notes-  and  confidently 
M  J^  ^%  *^/*  ^^  ry^^  "^"^  the  addreL  7f 
MademoiseUe  Jeanne  Boissiere  within  twelve  hours. 

asked  P^^:  ^*''^'^"'  "«  y«»  goiiig  ^  do  it?" 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "in  spite  of  the  war,  the 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  335 

telegraphic  telephonic,  and  municipal  systems  of 
France  work  m  perfect  order-  to  Ly  noE  of 
that  of  the  police.  Fr^lus.  I  think,  is  the  S  of 
the  place  she  started  from?"  " 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  after  her  lonelv 
dmner  in  the  great  hotel,  the^hij  offidd  3 
a«a™;    She  met  him  in  the  loun|e. 

Madame,"  said  he.  "I  have  the  nleasurp  t/.  ,•„ 
forai  you  that  MademoiseUe  Jeanne  bSI?^  iSe  of 
Frelus,  is   hving  in  Paris  at  743'^  BoSd  Port 
Royal,  and  spends  aU  her  days  at  the  succ^e  5 
the  French  fted  Cross  in  the  Rue  VaugirarcT^ 

..  S**''^r"i  ^°  ^^'^  ^^  told  her?  " 
inst;;;ctio^^5l«-«=    ^^^at  did  not  come  within  my 

''I  am  infinitely  grateful  to  you,"  said  Peggy, 
tocbl    "^  «  ^  <fe  q»oi,  Madame.    I  perfom  the 
tasks  assigned  to  me.  and  am  only  toThaZr   i^ 
this  case,  to  have  been  successful  "  ^^^' 

\anSTL^^'^-^'^"A^^^'^^'  ^^'^  desperately 
« T,  ,1,  l^'  ^^  pathetically  eager  to  talk  to 
a  human  being,  even  in  her  risty  VIvey  ^ool 
French,  "haven't  you  wondered  why  I^e  W 
so  aiuious  to  find  this  young  lady?" 

laugH  at  the  things  which  happen  durine  the  war 
we  should  be  so  bewildered  ^^at  w^shSulda't 
be  ahle  to  carry  on  our  work.  Madame."  saM  he 
handing  her  his  card,  "if  you  should  haveZthe; 

spies'"  '  "^  ^'  '^''^''  ^  ™  «i^«y«  atT^ 

He  bowed  profoundly  and  left  her. 

»Ko  ^^  ^**^^  ^V*^^  ^t2  because.  long  aRo 
when  her  parents  had  fetehed  her  from  V«vfv 

pi^^lT!^  ^''  "^^  °°«  ^""derful  fortnigK 
M^  ^^H**  ever  known,  they  had  chosen  tWs 
dignified  and  not  mcxpensivc  hostehy.  To  her 
girhsh  mmd.  it  had  breathed  the  last  w?rd  of%lS 


336 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


I 


dour,  movement,  gaiety -aU  that  was  comiote< 

by  the  magical  name  of  the  City  of  Light.    Bui 

now  the  glamour  had  departed.    SheVonderec 

whether  it  had  ever  been.    Oliver  had   laueheo 

at  her  expenences.    Sandwiched  between  dear  old 

Uncle  E«lward  and  Aunt  Sophia,  what  in  the  sacred 

name  of  France  could  she  have  seen  of  Paris?    Wait 

So  .^%«»'J^  timi  round.    He  would  take  her  to 

Kms.    She  would  have  the  unimagined  time  of 

her  hfe.    TTiey  dreamed  dreams  of  the  Rue  de  la 

irJ!  T  ^  ^^  ,*^?  hundred  pounds  laid  by.  which 

he  had  ear-marked  for  an  orgy  of  shopping  in  that 

TemptaUon  Avenue  of  a  thoroughfareT  of  Mont- 

martoe.  the  citadel  of  delectable  wickedness  and 

laughter;  of  funny  httle  restaurants  in  dark  streets 

where   you   are  delighted   to   pay   twenty   francs 

tor  a  mussel,  so  exquisitely  is  it  cooked;  of  daintv 

and  crazy  theatre;   of  long  drives,  folded  m  each 

others    anns,    when    moonlight    touches    dawn. 

tHrough  the  wonders  of  the  enchanted  city. 

Her  brief  dreams  had  ecHpsed  her  girUsh  memories. 
XNow  the  dreams  had  become  blurred.    She  strove 
to  bnnp  them  back  till  her  soul  ached,  tiU  she  broke 
dowB  mto  miserable  weeping.    She  was  alone  in 
a  strange,  unedifymg  town;    in  a  strange,  vast, 
commonplace  hotel.    The  cold,  moonUt  Place  de 
la  VendSme,  with  its  memorable  column,  just  op- 
posite her  bedroom  window,  meant  nothing  to  bar 
She  had  the  desolating  sense  that  nothing  in  the 
world  would  ever  matter  to  her  again  —  nothing 
M  far  as  she,  Peggy  Manningtree,  was  concerned! 
tier  life  was  over.    Altruism  alone  gave  sanction 
to  continued  existence.    Hence  her  present  adven- 
ture.   Pans  might  have  been  Burslem  for  all  the 
mterest  it  affoided. 

Jeanne  worked  from  morning  to   night   in  the 
succursaie  of  the  Croix  Rouge  in  the  Rue  Vaugirard. 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  337 

She  had  tried,  after  the  establishment  of  her  affaiw. 
LlwiSl°°ir'''f.T^''*  capacit?.  a  bS 

rades     Besides,  twice  in  her  life  she  owXve^S 

^,^„t.f°^'j'*''  ^^  ^^  repayment  of  the  deTCf 
a  matter  of  conscience.    But  she  tmrnA  tw  Vu 

e  K°^  •^'^«"^  hospital"  wS:  teigS  wUh 
Enghsh  girb;  and  she  could  not  ewn  sw^k^ 
^age  So  guided  by  the  Paril  frieff  wS 
whom  she  lodged,  she  made  her  way  to  Se  Rue 
Vaugirard.  where,  in  the  packing-room,  she  fomS 
hard^and  unemoUonal  employment  YrtXw^k 
had  to  be  done:  and  it  wa^  done  for  FrSce  wwS 
fcetw^lrr^'  '°  ^''  *^^  England^^  = 


t^aaaui,  ixjmpamonsnip.  

b^^eZAlJ^'  "''^  "rH««'  be-medaUed 
i^Mo^  ^th  III'  «PP«"«**  to  her  in  the  pack- 
ing room,   with   the  announcement   that  a  ^une 

Bewildered.  She  knew  no  EngUsh  ladies  — hnH 
never  met  one  in  her  life.    It  tolk  a  seS  or  Two 

JJoggie.  Then  came  convict  on.  In  blue  overflH 
anJcap,  she  foDowed  the  concierge  to  the  a^t^.^^ 
her  heart  beatmg.    At   the  4ht   of  X   vZS; 

Stogethe^'^  ^'°'"*^  "^^  ^^'  ^*  "^^'ly  «t0PP«i 
P^gy  advanced  with  outstretched  hand. 

;:  yS  Mad't'eT^"'  '^^^  ^°^^«^" 
"a^*?  *'?"^  of  Monsieur  Trevor—" 
Ah,  Madame  -"  Jeanne  pointed  to  the  mourn- 
mg  —    you  do  not  come  to  tefi  me  he  is  dead?  " 
Pe-ysnuled.    "No.    I  hope  not." 
AH  I      Jeanne  sighed  m  relief,  "I  thought—" 


338 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


IITTus  is  for  my  husband,"  said  Peggy  quietly. 

'*j4A,  Madame!  ^e  demande  bien  pardon.  Tai 
da  imujaire  de  la  peine.  Je  n'v  pentaitpat — " 

Jeanne  was  in  great  distress,  ^gy  smiled 
arain.  |' Widows  dress  diiTerently  in  ESSWd  and 
France."  She  looked  around  and  her  eyes  fell 
upon  a  bench  by  the  wall.  "  Could  we  sit  down  and 
have  a  little  talk?" 

"Pardon,  Madame,  e'etl  que  je  mit  un  peu 
emue.  .  . "  said  Jeanne. 

She  led  the  way  to  the  bench.  They  sat  down 
together,  and  for  a  feminine  second  or  two  took 
stock  of  each  other.  Jeanne's  first  rebellious  in- 
stinct said  "I  was  right."  In  her  furs  and  perfect 
millinery  and  perfect  shoes  and  perfect  black  silk 
stockings  that  appeared  below  the  short  skirt, 
Peggy,  blue-eyed,  fine-featured,  the  fine  product  of 
many  generations  of  scholarly  English  gentlefolk, 
seemed  to  incarnate  her  vague  conjectures  of  the 
sodal  atmosphere  in  which  Doggie  had  his  being. 
Her  peasant  blood  impelled  her  to  suspicion,  to  a 
half-grudging  admiration,  to  self-protective  jealousy. 
The  Englishwoman's  ease  of  manner,  in  spite  of 
her  helter-skelter  French,  oppressed  her  tnth  an 
angry  sense  of  inferiority.  She  was  also  conscious 
of  the  blue  overall  and  close-fitting  cap.  Yet  the 
Englishwoman's  smile  was  kind  and  she  had  lost  her 
husband.  .  .  .  And  Peggy,  looking  at  this  girl 
with  the  dark,  tragic  eyes  and  re&ied,  pale  face 
and  graceful  gestures,  in  the  funny  instinctive 
British  way  tned  to  place  her  socialW.  Was  she 
a  ladyf  It  mi  "3  such  a  difference.  This  was  the 
girl  for  whom  jL>oggie  had  performed  his  deed  of 
knight-errantry;  die  girl  whom  she  proposed  to 
take  back  to  Doggie.  For  the  moment,  discount- 
ing the  uniform  which  might  have  hidden  a  midinette 
or  a  duchess,  she  had  nothing  but  the  face  and  the 
gesturen  and  the  beautifully  modulated  voice  to 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


339 


^j"P?°'j"^  between  the  accent  of  the  midinette 
and  Uie  duchess  — both  being  equaUy  channinir  to 
qk'  ?°!^  ear -Peggy  could  not  discrSte. 
bhe  had,  however,  beautiful,  capable  hands  and 
took  care  of  her  finjrer-nails. 
Jeanne  broke  the  tiny  spell  of  embarrassed  silence 

I  am  at  your  disposal,  Madame." 
Peggy  plunged  at  once  into  facts. 
It  majr  seem  strange,  my  coming  to  you;   but 
ine  tact  is  that  my  cousin,   Monsieur  Trevor    is 
severely  wounded  ..." 
"Mon  Dieu!"  said  Jeanne. 
"And    his   friend,    Mr.   McPhail,   who    is   also 
wounded,  thinks  that  if  you  —  well  — " 

Her  French  failed  her  —  to  carry  off  a  very  deli- 
cate situation  one  must  have  command  of  liminiaKe 
-she  could  only  blurt  out -"///an/  comprendie. 
Mademoiselle.  Uafailbeaucouppourvous." 
She  met  Jeanne's  dark  eyes.  Jeanne  said: 
"Oui,  Madame,  tous  avez  raison.  II  a  beaucouD 
fait  pour  moi."  ^ 

„  Peggy  flushed  at  the  unconscious  correction  — 
beaucoup  fait,"  for  "fait  beaucoup." 
"He  has  done  not  only  mu<±,  but  everything 
for  me,  Madame,"  Jeanne  continued.  "And  you 
who  have  come  from  England  expressly  to  tell  me 
that  he  is  wounded,  what  do  you  wish  me  to  do?  " 

Accompany   me   back   to   Loudon.    I    had   a 
telegram  this  morning  to  say  that  he  had  arrived 
at  a  hospital  there." 
"Then  you  have  not  seen  him?" 
"Not  yet." 

"Then  how,   Madame,   do  you  know  that  he 
desires  my  presence?  " 

,   Peggy  glanced  at  the  girl's  hands  clasped  on  her 
lap,  and  saw  that  the  knuckles  were  white. 
I  am  sure  of  it." 
"He    would    have    written,    Madame.    I    only 


SM 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


iS^VedTtte"™"  '^'  "°'  *^^  ""  -^« 

"Madame."  cried  Jeanne.    "I  implore  you  to 

naa  ever  reached  me. 
"Not  one?" 

haA\^^^^^ ^^ incredulous.    Pliineas McPhafl 

S^nJ^  f  ^"  ^  x?***"*  *.  ^*«;«^  "t  the  lack  of  re- 
sponse from  Fr6Iu8,  and,  after  all.  Fr^lus  had  a 
properly  constituted  post  office  in  working  oitler! 
^th^rt'-f^  ^'^^^^  ^  forwarTlettere. 
pU    But    *'"°™  *^™^  prepared  to  reproach  the 

y*  If  Jure,  Madame,"  said  Jeanne. 
And  Peggy  believed  her. 

,«r^Uj  ^  "^H,*".  r^^onsieur  McPhail.  giving  him 
my  address  m  Paris.  ^^ 

"He  lost  the  letter  before  he  saw  Doggie  ajrain" 

~  ^nt°r^  ^-.fP^  Tr""^^  f°'K°t  tSladckess." 
But  how  did  yoT)  find  me? 

dol^that'fo,"-:;?*^"^  '^^«  ^"^  "D'^i  y- 

"For  my  cousin." 
l^Sffoftn^^"'    ^«t-l^owIknow 
"All  nght "  smUed  Peggy.    "For  Doggie  then." 

J-T^w^  u'^^  ^""^^  '°°°»e°t  o'  t^o  was  in  a 
"»;    Eml>assies  and  Prefectures  of  Police  I 

much  "  ^^'  ^  **°  *^'  '^°"  ™"®*  ^°^®  *™  ^e^ 

"I  loved  him  so  much  —  I  hope  you  will  under- 

fr^J'l-'^^  ^^^°*  I  knowns^terrible-but 
1  loved  hun  so  much  th„t  until  he  came  home 
wounded  we  were  fiance.!,"  " 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  345 

JMinne  drew  a  abort  broath.     "I  felt  U   IVfa^o 
An  English  genUeman  of  grcat  estate  wLlH  nT' 

tic  ebmaa  Aetth  she  bad  acccoSi^JXf™?* 

man  whom  I  married.    He  lo^ ^ou     H^  Z^" 

fom  thai  ™gi,  have  dated  iom  1870  vheiE 
p.d»go  m  and  out.  group.  uM^  of  the  bSZ 
of  lie  organisatmi,  here  and  there  a  bl«°^Sl 
jouag    heatenm    and    a    blue^verdlS    pkS" 


342 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


;H 


S'^^-TT**  did  not  need  God  to  know  of  what 
But  neither  of  the  two  women  heeded  this  multi- 
tude. 

Jeanne  said;  "Madame,  I  am  profoundly  moved 
by  what  you  have  told  me.  If  I  show  Uttle  emotion. 
It  18  because  I  have  suffered  greatly  fiom  the  war. 
One  lewm  self-restraint,  Madame,  or  one  goes 
mad.  But  as  you  have  spoken  to  me  ia  your  noble 
Enghsh  frankness  — I  have  only  to  confess  that 
1  love  Doggie  with  all  my  heart,  with  all  my  soul  — " 
with  her  two  clenched  hands  she  smote  her  breast 
—  and  Peggy  noted  it  was  the  first  gesture  that  she 
had  made.  I  feel  the  infinite  need,  Madame  — 
you  will  understand  me,  —  to  care  for  him,  to  pro- 
tectnim  — 
P^gy  raised  a  beautifully  gloved  hand. 
Protect  him?"  she  interrupted.  "Why,  hasn't 
heshownhimself  tobeaheroP" 

Jeaime  I^t  forward  and  grasped  the  protestmit 
r^ru^^*^*.^''^*:  «"<*  fiere  was  a  wonderfid 
light  behmd  her  eyes  and  a  curious  vibration  in 
her  voice. 

"It  is  only  les  petits  h&ros  tout  faiU  —  the  Uttle 
ready-made  heroes  —  ready-made  by  the  bon  Dieu 
—  who  have  no  need  of  a  woman's  protection. 
But  It  IS  a  different  thing  with  the  great  heroes  who 
have  made  themselves  without  the  aid  of  a  bon 
JJieu,  from  htUe  dogs  of  no  account  (des  petit*  chiens 
denen  du  tou/)  to  what  Dog-gie  is  at  the  moment. 
Ihe  woman  then  takes  her  place.  She  fixes  thmss 
for  ever.    She  alone  can  understand." 

Peggy  gasped  as  at  a  new  Revelation.  The 
terms  m  which  this  French  girl  expressed  herself 
were  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  her  philosophy. 
Ihe  varyme  aspects  in  which  Doggie  had  presentwl 
hunself  to  her  m  the  past  few  months,  had  been 
bewilderm^.  Now  she  saw  him,  in  a  fresh  light, 
though  as  m  a  glass  darkly,  as  reflected  by  Jeanne, 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


343 


Sly?*^  protested  again,  in  order  to  see  more 
"But  what  would  you  protect  him  from?" 

faitT^J*^*  ?■  ^^t  ^  '*^™^;  fro'"  ^ant  of 
laitL  m  his  destiny.  Madame.  Once  he  told  me 
he  had  come  to  France  to  fight  for  his  soul  It  i^ 
necessary  that  he  should^be  vicSrioT  It  & 
nwiessary  that  the  woman  who  loves  him  should 
maAC  him  victorious.  ^^  ououia 

^eggy  put  out  her  hand  and  touched  Jeanne's 

she'^sSd**^?,  il!!'^'*r^?f«?«'  MademoiseUe," 
Me  said  sudply.  'I  couldn't  have  done  that" 
She  paused.  'VeU?"  she  resumed.  "Will^u 
nowcomewithmeto*ondon?"  ^ 

A  faint  sn^ile  crept  i^to  Jeanne's  eyes. 

"Man  wi,  Madame."  ' 

1^^^^^^  m  the  long,  pleasant  ward  of  the  great 

London  hospital,  the  upper  left  side  of  his  fX 

a  mass  of  bandaged  pain.    Neck  and  shoulder,  frcSt 

and  back  and  arm.  had  been  shattered  and  torn 

bya  high  explosive  shell.    The  top  of  his  lun«  1^ 

been   grazed.    Only   the   remoiXs   pSe   at 

the  base  hospital  had  justified  the  senioTof  hiiS 

after  a  week,  to  England.    Youth  and^splenS 

constitution  which  Dr    Murdoch  had  prfflS 

m  the  far  off  days  of  the  war's  begimmi.  and  the 

tough^mg  training  of  the  war  S^^'^iS 

through.    No  more  fighting  for  Do^giTtWs  s^ 

of  the  grave.    But  iJie  grave  was  asllr  distant  as 

3,no™"rr°'^'^  ^  ^  twenties whoavoids 

TiU  to-day  he  had  not  been  aUowed  to  see  visitors. 

nf  n.Tr''*^"j  They  told  him  that  the  Dean 
of  Durdlebuo  had  caUed;  had  brought  flowers 
Md  fhut  and  had  left  a  card  "From  your  W 
Peggy,  andmyself."    But  Uniay  he  felt  SiSy 


344 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


strong,  in  spite  of  the  unrelenting  pain,  and  the 
nurse  had  said:  "I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  had 
Hflii*^iS'!i.^^  afternoon."  Peggy,  of  course. 
±le  followed  the  hands  of  his  wrist  watch  until  thev 
marked  ttie  visiting  hour.  And  sure  enough,  a 
mmute  afterwards,  amid  the  stream  of  men  and 
women  —  chiefly  women  —  of  all  grades  and  kinds, 
he  caught  aght  of  Peggy's  face  smiling  beneath 
her  widow  s  hat.  She  had  a  great  bunch  of  violets 
m  her  bodice. 

"My  dear  old  Doggie!"  She  bent  down  a^id 
"ssed  bun.  "These  rotten  people  wouldn't  let 
me  come  before. 

"I  know"  said  Doegie.  He  pointed  to  his 
shoulder.  "I'm  afraid  Tm  ina  heU  of  air.ess.  It's 
lovely  to  see  you. 

aie  unpumed  the  violets  and  thrust  them  towards 

"  |f|°™  *»o™e.    I've  brought  'em  for  you." 
My  God!"  said  Doggie,  burymg  his  nose  in  the 
huge  bimch.       I  never  knew  violets  could  smeU 
take  this.      He  laid  them  down  with  a  sigh.    "  How's 
everybody?"  ^ 

"Quite  fit." 

There  was  a  span  of  silence.  Then  he  stretched 
out  his  hand  and  she  gave  him  hers  and  he  JtripDed 
It  tight.  *  *^*^ 

"Poor  old  Peggy  dear!" 

"Oh,  that's  an  right,"  she  said  bravely.  "I 
know  you  care,  dear  Doggie.  That's  enomrh. 
I  ve  just  eot  to  stick  it  like  the  lest."  She  with- 
drew her  band  after  a  litUe  squeeze,  "Bless  you 
Don  t  womr  about  me.    I'm  contemptibly  healthy. 

"  Gettmg   on   splendidly.    I   say,    Peggy    what 

S)    iS'^  are  the  Pullingers  who  have  taken 

"They're  all  right,  I  beUeve.    He's  something  in 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD  345 

"I  wasn't." 
"You  were." 

wiST"  Mr*-    ""r«'^e  come  here  to  argue 

be^SpmrA"^  ^^^-    "^ou  seem  to 

;  Never  stronger  in  my  life,"  lied  Doggie, 
fond^f P^"*  ^°"^'  *°  ^^  ^'"'^^y  you  are  very 

-       "Nr^?'^^^™^''^'    Uncle  Edward?" 
Dean'^^tSe'emp^^^^^  *^^  ""'^  «— d  the 
1'™°^  1?'^   Pl'inea''?    Has  he   come   throueh? 

L?tCJt1.tS,?«  ^  -^^^-  ^-'^^^^ 

^^Y^  he's  flourishing.    He  wrote  to  me.    I've 

thiiSTo  0*51  o^s;;.!^  ?o°^tho;^^^t5 

^^^H:SrHir 

thinking  of  Phmeas.    Of  his  last  wonfs  m  he  dS 

rS^Son  of^h'^^^^.P*^*-^"  «=hemes  for 
reorganisation  of  the  social  system,  Phineas  haH 
ms  place..  No  furUier  need  for  de^  oW  pLSs 

Pai:S°**H"e  h^^  ^'^-  ««"  r"^^^  pS^ 
falace.    He  had  thought  it  out  long  ago,  although 


346 


THE  ROUGH  ROAD 


he  had  never  said  a  word  to  Phineas.    Now  he  could 
set  the  pwr  chap's  mind  at  rest  for  ever. 

He  looked  round  contentedly,  and  saw  Pemrv 
and  a  companion  coming  down  the  ward  toeetifiw 
And  It  was  not  PhineaT'lt  was  a  prrrblaX 

He  raised  hunself,  forgetful  of  exquisite  pain 
meir  '^'  '^^'  «"'»  «t«^  i°  a  thdiof  aiC 

ah^^t^^""  *°  ^'™>  ""d  there  were  no  longer 
ghosts  behmd  her  eyes,  for  they  shone  like  stars. 


THE  NOVELS  OF  WILLIAM  J.  LOCKE 


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^J^-.TT'""'  »  tti,.  hi.  bert  .to,nn«^^  mYv^ 
V|M.bond."  nough  it  h«  w„  for  it,  b«kgromd.  "iST^ 
PUjnet"  »  .  rtoo-  of  home;  it  h«  if  ^t^gTHiiet  LlS 
vUI^e  wh«,  d^U  the  mother,  „d  f.th«^the  ^^ll^ 
he«t.  o,  ,w  who  a«  out  "„„ewhe«."  W  i.  ZTI^ 
g~t  devobon,  «id  quiet  courage  «,d  myteor.  And^  T 
S^of'f  jT  '"'     '^  ■»«  1^  "o-ntO'  thrill,  you  with  U» 

poet  .ho  dW  i.  th,  Di,H«ell«,  „d  .o,  IhiTboTol  £^.,    ,^ ,?' 

wltl  '*!fCT","  "  ""  "*°°»""'«  """biMtio.  of  the  mod<fii  «wl  the  mid 
W*«Un  th.t  f«a.„,..  th,  ™d.r  of  -Th.  B«i  PUort/  a  ^XiS^ 
■fab.  .,  Mr.  Locke'.,  „  EngUod  ,„bbe,-H™d  u>d  beU-be™,  ooTt^SSi 

not  one  of  the  moetTinle  men  th.1  Locke  h*.  ever  dawn."         "»"°W»" 

■nebn.  inlereetin.,  even  heroic  or  lo«bJe,  !!«,«  out  oiZZT^,^- 
^toil    .„ch  „  the.  of  hU  'Bebved  V;^d.° Id  Z^  ."TSTjSf 
d-^  h.m  „  he  unfold,  thi.  .u.r,  through  the  p.„'„d  pJTXS^S^ 
Mo.«lyth..ta»>.l  helpl,»  perdytio  though  hi.  feeding  cWeter  U  wl 

ou.  oome  mto  touch  with  the  .iruggfc  only  Um,„,h  the  S  Bnt  hU  ^l 
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JAFFERY 

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In^.    Th.m«.Ulp^l<^<rf.u^d«m..e.whoCS 

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"ITift  Woodeifu]  Yew"  leUtM  Am  —n^— i„—     « 

ti». and. ™,uri.hm»t to7Z^»Tal^iL ^JT?"   i."r"' *°'' 

c-1  inn.  ,h™  h.  1»™  tB.  i„.,i„t  .^of^S:^',^^/!*':'^^- 
.  (ImpM,  too.  of  Egypt  "d.  in  tl>.  «,d.  of  tk.  ~l  „rT'    ^'" 

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THE 

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